Haunting Memories
by Mystic83
Summary: Syd knows there was something missing from the explanation of her two years as Julia Thorne. She didn’t think she cared to know what that was. At least, until the memories started coming back to haunt her. Sequel to The Safety of His Arms. SSa
1. Returning Memories

Sydney cursed her luck as she ran up her twentieth flight of stairs. Running to the top of this building in Pamplona, Spain and chasing after the one man she would have paid money to never see again was not what she wanted to be doing. What she wanted to be doing was snuggling up to Vaughn on his couch, watching the latest Kings game, like old times.

It had been approximately one week since she and Vaughn had shared that kiss in Palermo. One week since the death of Lauren Reed. And one week since she realized that her whole life was a sham.

The day she found the papers explaining that her father had known that all the tragedy, all the pain she had felt, all the suffering, had to happen to her was still fresh in her mind. He had tried to explain that it was for her benefit that he let her go through all that, but she didn't want to listen then. She still didn't want to listen now.

That didn't stop Jack from pleading with her to hear what he was saying the whole plane ride back to Los Angeles. The words he said did not come close to sinking in until later that night when she was home and had time to process it. From that point to the present time, they rang through her head, never lightening up. She was always trying to comprehend what her father had done to her.

He let Danny die, knowing that the pain she got from that tragedy would make her become a double agent and affiliate herself with the real CIA. The pain would make her strong and put her beyond the reach of grief.

He knew that her mother was a KGB spy sent there to trick him into giving away national secrets. The whole time he was dating her, he knew. He let Irina Derevko use him. He let her carry his child so that Sydney would be born for him to shape into what he needed, into what he thought the world needed.

He knew that one of Sydney's best friends would betray her one day. It explained why he had been hesitant to trust or even acknowledge the existence of Will Tippin. In retrospect, Jack realized that Tippin wasn't the threat to Sydney. It had been Francine Calfo. He had realized it too late to change the course of events, even if it had been possible for him to do so.

Her father knew she was abducted by the Covenant and held their prisoner for two years until she chose to escape. He knew that she was alive, and he did nothing to stop it. When she finally asked him why, the answer was simple. To rid her of her attachments to people that weren't supposed to be closed to her.

Namely, Vaughn. Jack wanted to give Vaughn a chance to realize that Sydney was gone forever and move on. He played as if he was searching for Sydney and coming up empty so that Vaughn would accept the fact that she was dead. He went as far as allowing the US government to imprison him in his attempts to control Sydney's fate. Jack would never have allowed Vaughn to move on from Sydney to a spy for the Covenant. He assured Sydney if he hadn't been in prison he would not have let that happen.

When Sydney finally got up the courage to ask him why he had been messing with her life since the day she was born, he said it had to do with Rambaldi. Everything in her life seemed to revert back to Rambaldi. Milo Rambaldi knew that one day there would arise two sisters from the same mother. Both sisters would be powerful in their own right, but they were destined to be on opposite sides of the fight. One would come forth of two pure, good parents, and the other would be made in secret by the darkest of parents.

Jack hadn't understood the prophecy until he met his soon-to-be wife. He recognized her potential, the goodness and the evil inside of her. It was at that moment that he realized he would have a child with this woman. And that child would be marked for the fight of her life. He couldn't change that.

He knew that Sydney would grow up and have to face her half-sister in a fight to the death. He spent his whole life making sure that she grew to be as tough and strong as she would need to be to win. He let the pain and suffering that was foretold for her happen. He made sure she didn't make attachments that would hurt her.

In short, he played puppeteer to her life.

Sydney wasn't sure she could ever forgive him.

The one happy point to all this was realizing that not even her father was powerful enough to keep her and Vaughn apart. Since the moment that he shot his wife dead to save Sydney's life, she and Vaughn hadn't been apart. He had apologized a million and a half times for letting them get so far off track, for losing hope in their love.

She hadn't wasted a moment in punishing him. The forgiveness was there for him instantly.

And now she was stuck doing the only thing she seemed to be good at. Well, besides losing the men she loved.

Her greatest talent was hunting down Sark and bringing him back into CIA custody.

The slimy bastard had escaped from the CIA once more. If her greatest skill was the ability to track him down, his greatest skill was to get away from whomever tried to imprison him. This time, no one was really sure how he had gotten out. There were no signs of an infiltration and no signs of his tampering with the security. He had just disappeared like always.

And she was tired of it. This time, even though her assignment was to capture him and bring him back to the States, she intended to kill him and put an end to their nonstop struggle. She knew that if anyone else knew her plan, they would say that murder is not something she should be doing. Murder can change a person, they would say.

Sydney knew that and she didn't care. She had gotten into enough trouble at the hands of Julian Lazarey. She was damn worn-out by it.

So she had done her job and tracked him to this building in Spain. It appeared to be one of his many hideouts. He kept a charming little penthouse on the top floor, which appeared to be where he was running off to at the moment.

It all started in the lobby. By accident, she had physically run into him. She had been scanning the building for any signs that he was there at the time. He was leaving the building to go meet a business contact for lunch. For some reason, neither one noticed the other until it was too late to try to be stealthy and spy-like. They had both stared in horror at the other as they lay on the lobby floor, knocked down completely from their sudden contact.

"Sydney," Sark said, almost as if he had been expecting her to show up the whole time.

"I'd run if I was you," she warned him.

"I'm not scared," he said, delivering the first smirk of their witty banter. Both he and she knew that this little repartee was a staple in their confrontations. Both wanted to seem like the party in control, and both wanted the other one to know they didn't stand a chance in hell of beating them.

"Your little girlfriend is dead, Sark. Did you know that?" She hoped that mention of Lauren would throw him off enough for her to be able to make a move.

He didn't flinch. "No, I didn't. But it explains why she hasn't been in contact with me since I escaped."

"Death will break the lines of communication. It's a proven fact." She had expected him to be fazed at least a little by the news. This coolness was unsettling her. "Don't you care?"

"I never really cared about Lauren Reed that much. She was a way to poke some silent fun at your little boy toy. While he was at home, trying to not think of you, trying to be faithful to his wife, I was causing her to commit adultery. It had a nice poetic ring to it. Plus, I knew if you ever found out, it would drive you mad. I take so much pleasure in driving you mad, Agent Bristow."

Sydney picked herself up off the floor at the exact same second that Sark did. They both slowly circled each other, expecting their opponent to make the first move.

Sark's watch caught the rays of Spanish sunlight and temporarily blinded Sydney. He took the small window of opportunity that flash opened and ran towards the stairwell.

And twenty flights later, here she was, chasing after Sark for what she hoped would be the last time.

She guessed he was only a flight or two above her and fired off a few more gunshots. When there was no sound except the continued footsteps up the stairs, she cursed. This wasn't her lucky day. She heard a door open above her and took the stairs two at a time to catch up.

Her body skidded to a halt when she realized that the stairwell had ended. Sark had chosen not to retreat to the home turf of his penthouse. Instead, he had let himself out onto the roof of the building. Where he planned to go from there was anyone's guess.

Slowly, she took out the half-used clip from her gun and popped in a full one. There wouldn't be time to reload once this skirmish began. She stepped hesitantly out onto the roof and scanned the area. There was no movement and no sound. The roof was flat with no places to hide. Wherever he had gone, Sark was no longer up there on the roof.

"Great," she muttered. She lowered her gun realizing that he had managed to give her the slip. "How the hell did he do that?"

The sound of a gun's safety being released made her jump and immediately point her own gun in the direction of the sound.

"Do what?" Sark asked as he stepped out from behind where the door to the roof had swung open.

"Nothing." She glared at him. And then without warning, she took a swing at his head and narrowly missed.

He used the momentum of her blow to twist her around and wrap her arm around her neck, where he held it securely. "Are we destined to do this dance forever?"

"Yes," she growled head bunting him hard. "I guess the burden of kicking your ass is something I'm going to have carry for a long time. But someone has to do it." She punched him hard in the face before he could recover. "And I have to admit, I enjoy it a lot."

Instead of retaliating, Sark threw himself to where her gun had fallen. He didn't make it in time. Instead of feeling the gun in his hand, he felt her boot come down on his wrist roughly. She leaned in, foot still on his arm, and picked up her gun.

Knowing it was a rather barbaric move, but probably his only option, he bit her leg.

She screamed in pain and backed off. "What are you? Six?" she yelled.

He stood up and pointed his gun at her. She hadn't lost a beat and was also pointing her weapon at his chest.

"What do we do now, Sydney? You can't shoot me. The government you've sworn your life away to wants me alive and in their custody." He smirked at her. "I know what you're thinking. I could shoot you in an instant. Well, I'm going to tell you right now. I don't really feel like killing. Plus, I don't want to give you any reason to think you'll get an opportunity to shoot me dead."

"There's one thing you don't understand," she said, smiling wickedly.

Sark was thrown off for a moment. He had never seen her look like that. Something had changed with her since he had last seen her. She was acting like she had nothing to live for. "I think I understand you pretty well," he answered, covering his confusion to the best of his ability.

"You were right about me not being able to shoot you if I want to succeed in my mission. But the thing is I didn't come to Spain in order to succeed. I plan on failing my mission horribly." She smiled at him wickedly again. "You see, I intend to kill you."

Sark smiled right back at her. "I think I finally understand why we're always fighting, Agent Bristow."

"Why is that?" She didn't lower her gun for a second even though his tone had switched from taunting to something more friendly. Realizing she might be standing for a while, she did switch the majority of her weight over to the leg he hadn't bitten.

"I don't fit into your life. The life you want for yourself. You just can't justify how I fit in. Am I your enemy? Not really. I've never done anything to purposefully hurt you."

"You've shot at me more times than I can count."

"You've shot at me, too." He went back to his explanation. "I'm not your friend, either. I've offered to be your partner and friend before. You refused. And friends don't usually shoot at each other. Though, come to think of it, the friends you have might."

She fired a quick shot over his right shoulder, dangerously close to his ear.

"Now why didn't you just shoot me in the heart, Sydney? Why are you hesitating?"

"Because this whole cold-hearted killing thing is new to me."

"Right," he said hesitantly. "And your time as Julia Thorne taught you nothing about that."

"How would you know anything about my time as Julia Thorne?"

"People talk. You forget that I worked with Simon Walker for a while. He told me that you're a tiger in bed."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "I don't understand. Do you want me to shoot you?"

He shrugged. "But you understand what I'm saying. I am who I am. And right now, that doesn't fit into your life. Maybe someday down the road it will. I'll be waiting for then."

His words chilled Sydney to the bone, and she couldn't understand why. It was like she had heard them before, a long time ago. Her head pounded slightly and her vision blurred. She could hear a distant noise but couldn't get her head to turn. She was frozen in place as random images popped into her head.

Her holding a knife to Sark's throat, taunting him.

Her throwing a shot glass in his direction and it shattering as it hit the wall.

Simon Walker staring down at her, naked in bed. And there was someone beside her.

Her pointing a gun at Allison Doren with Sark by her side.

Sark carrying her in his arms away from a car wreck.

And the most disturbing of all, her lying in Sark's arms feeling perfectly content with where she was.

Shaking her head, she looked back up at the man she had been trying to shoot. She raised her gun back up at him. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing," he practically stammered. She could tell that he was being truthful. He seemed thrown off by her reaction.

If Sydney had had all her wits about her, she would have realized that it wasn't her reaction that was throwing him off. The words he had said to her had also made him pale. Something had happened to him, too. The same images she had seen were running through his head.

She stepped toward him and poked the barrel of her gun roughly to his throat. "You did something to me, and I want to know what it was."

He continued to hold his hands out, pointing his gun away from where she stood. After a moment, he found a strong enough voice to respond. "I have no idea what just happened to you, Sydney. We were doing our usual I'm-going-to-kill-you routine and then you just got paled and seemed to drift off."

"You did something to my head." She stepped back and shook her head again. The gun went back into her holster. Both she and Sark knew that their battle was taking a time out. They didn't fight when they were both not up for it. It was a strange, unspoken rule between them.

Sark also holstered his weapon. "I did nothing to you."

"Images flashed through my head," she hissed at him. "Memories of things that didn't happen."

"What... kind of memories?" he asked hesitantly. It intrigued him that the same thing seemed to happen to the both of them. Though how those images could be memories was beyond him.

"Like I'm going to tell you!"

"They were about me, weren't they?" he said with a smirk.

"No," she said a little too quickly.

"So what were they like? Were you ravaging me in bed?" He was joking with her, but the smirk was wiped off his face when he saw her cheeks redden. "You were fantasizing about me in bed, Bristow? Priceless!"

"We weren't having sex," she screamed, her patience finally hitting its end at the idea of Sark knowing that the images she had seen definitely implied that they were intimate. "You were holding me. And fighting Allison Doren with me. Most of it seemed typical. Except for the holding part. That was not typical." She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop herself. "I mean, I was trying to slit your throat. That's normal interaction between us. And I was throwing things at your head. That sounds like something I'd do. The rest of it must have just been bullshit."

"Have you convinced yourself that already?" Sark goaded her. She drew her gun out of her holster just as he raised his again. "We're back to this place, huh?"

"It seems like this is where we always end up."

"Well, it's been fun. You might as well kill me now." He paused for dramatic purposes. "But then you'll never get a full explanation of what just happened to you."

"I knew you were behind it, you stupid--" Her insults were cut off as Sark pushed her up against the wall near the door to the stairwell.

She was caught off guard as he crushed his lips to hers in a searing kiss. There was no way to explain her reaction. Instead of shooting him in the chest, which was where her gun was conveniently placed, she felt her grip loosen and her gun slid to the concrete. Her empty hands then slid up Sark's body until she felt them pulling him closer. She could feel him groan in pleasure.

After a minute, Sark pulled back and broke contact. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "You weren't the only one remembering things that don't make sense, Sydney. I remember all those things, too."

Before she could react, he was out the door and running down the stairwell.

She made no move to follow him, instead choosing to slide down the wall and to the ground. Her mind was racing with the events of the past few minutes. Whatever had flashed through her head earlier, it had felt as real as anything she had ever encountered. It felt like real memories.

She shook her head. They couldn't be real memories. Kendall had told her the whole of what had occurred during her missing two years. That was the only length of time during her whole life that she wasn't sure of. If these images were real, they would have happened then.

And that was just ridiculous. Sark had been in the CIA custody during the whole two years she was gone. There was no way he could have been by her side at any point. No way.

But that didn't explain why he claimed that he had the same images in his mind.

She couldn't understand it. She couldn't explain it. All she knew was that she wanted to get home to the familiarity she yearned for. The life that she was so sure she wanted ten minutes ago. The life that suddenly seemed a little hollow, and she didn't know why.


	2. A SlipUp

The second her plane landed at the military base in Los Angeles, Sydney demanded to see Dixon. She was irate at what had happened between her and Sark. Dixon had lied to her when he said he hadn't known she was alive for those two years she spent with the Covenant. He and Kendall could have lied to her about what exactly went on doing those two years. If anyone had some explaining to do, it was him.

People jumped out of her way as she rounded the corners of the hallway leading to Dixon's office. She didn't even look anyone in the face on her way there. She was on a mission that wouldn't be delayed for anyone.

When she found herself face-to-face with the door to his office, she felt her resolve begin to face. This was one of the men to which she had entrusted her life time and again. Would he really hide something so big from her when he knew how desperate she was to remember and how much it killed her to have to be told what had happened?

She raised her hand to knock but stopped it at the last second. She couldn't do it. Dixon had been too good a friend to her throughout the years. They had been through too much together.

With a sigh of defeat, she turned around and headed back in the direction of her desk. There was paperwork to be done like always.

* * *

Two hours later, she wasn't any further than when she started. Every time she started to write up a first hand account of her run-in with Sark, she found herself writing down small fibs and half-truths. It was a mystery to her why she didn't seem to want to admit the exact events that had occurred.

In the back of her head, she knew it was because she was scared.

Scared that if she wrote them down, it would cement them as truth. She wouldn't be able to talk her way out of this situation if anyone found out. What had gone on between her and Sark made no sense in her head. There was no possible way that they could both be reliving the same memories.

She still agreed with her original deduction. If these memories were true, they occurred during her missing two years. The only problem with that theory was Sark had spent the whole two years she was missing locked up in a CIA prison cell. There was no way that the events still flashing through her head continually could have occurred.

Again, she found herself realizing that the only person who would know the truth was Dixon. Kendall hadn't been available since the day he had met her on that plane to relive her missing time. The government wasn't too happy with the end results of Kendall's explanation, aka Sydney's discovery of the project that had been her life.

Once again, she walked to the closed door of Dixon's office. This time she managed to knock before changing her mind. Twenty seconds later, she found herself sitting in a chair staring at her friend, unable to form the words that needed to be said.

"Is there something you needed, Sydney? Something you wanted to talk about?"

"My missing two years," she said softly.

"I'd be happy to retell you everything I know, but I don't think it will help whatever's bothering you. I mean, all the information that Kendall and I were privy to you already know."

"I've been recalling certain memories."

"So you're finally remembering for yourself?" Dixon smiled genuinely. "That's great. It will make it a lot easier for you to finish adjusting to the idea of having two years of you life gone."

Sydney shook her head and wondered the best way to phrase this. "The memories I've been having? They don't exactly fit nicely with what you and Kendall have told me." 

"How so?" The fact that Dixon looked concerned but not thrown off by this seemed to keep her nerves from jumping.

"Well, I remember working with Sark. And I'm not talking about the mission we went on for SD-6."

"That's impossible. Sark was in U.S. custody the whole time you were missing. I would know. I had to interrogate him for information every day. In the beginning, it was information on what had happened to you. Then, it switched to ties we thought he might potentially have with the Covenant. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't see him in his cell."

"See, that doesn't work with my memories. The time I remember spending with him would drag on for days. I remember working on an assignment with him for a whole week in Tanzania. The CIA would have missed him if he went lost for a whole week."

"Exactly." Dixon leaned back in his chair. "Want to hear what I think this is really about, Syd?"

She nodded.

"I think you're just transferring all the pent-up emotions that were created by the whole revelation with your father. I think that you've become a little preoccupied with Sark. His recapture has been something for you to focus on instead of your father's "betrayal" or Lauren Reed's death. It seems perfectly normal to me."

"That is a rather convincing explanation."

"Do your memories resemble any other occurrences you experienced that you remember?"

Sydney thought hard. "There was this one time that I got so mad at Will that I threw a glass of iced tea at his head. And he used to comfort me a lot when I was dealing with Danny's death. Will was also with me when I found the Rambaldi vial. He stabbed Allison Doren." She paused for a second and then continued, "And I guess holding a knife to Sark's throat might just be a fantasy I have."

"See? It all makes sense."

Sydney stood up. "Thank you, Dixon. I was starting to get a little worried. This whole thing with my father has made me slightly distrustful of everyone."

"You can trust me, Sydney."

"I know," she smiled at him one last time before shutting the door behind her. She almost ran straight into Marshall who was hurrying down the corridor. "What's the hurry?"

"Carrie just called. Mitch just said his first word."

"That's so great. Was it Mommy or Daddy?"

"No. He said nanotechnology." Marshall grinned from ear to ear. "He is definitely my son."

Sydney nodded her head in agreement. Marshall took a few steps but then turned back to her. "What were you talking to Dixon about?"

"Just Sark and some memories I had," she said absentmindedly. She really wanted to talk with Vaughn about what had happened, but she was beginning to wonder if he really would want to hear anything about her fake memories of being intimate with Sark.

"Yeah. I heard that he managed to evade you. I swear this second attempt was just as successful as the first."

"What?" Sydney said, snapping back to attention.

Marshall paled. "I just said that he still seems to be good at evading you. I mean, he used to do it all the time back in the day. It looks like his skills aren't rusty."

"You said second attempt," she stated. When he didn't answer, she gave him an odd look. "If this was his second attempt, what was his first?"

"The time he escaped from the plane we had flying him in to our custody," Marshall said.

She could immediately tell he was lying. "I don't think that's it. I mean, we never officially had him in our custody here at the facility. So it couldn't be classified as an escape."

Marshall looked down at the cell phone in his hand. "I'd love to stay and chat with you all day, Syd. But I really need to call Carrie and talk to her about mini-Mitch." He practically sprinted away from her.

"Weird," she muttered before taking a seat at her desk again. 


	3. Neighbors

It was going on three hours Sydney had been laying in bed staring at the wall. She could hear the soft breathing of Vaughn beside her. He didn't have any trouble falling asleep it seemed. That was probably because he really didn't know what had gone on earlier that day with Sark.

She had meant to tell him every single thing about her run-in with Sark the second she got home. In fact, she had been looking forward to telling him all in day in hopes that he could give her a definite answer as to what was going on. But after sitting at her desk trying to figure out why Marshall might be lying to her and then being caught in traffic for over an hour, she was jut too tired.

Vaughn didn't help either. There used to be a time when he just intuitively knew that she was upset about something. That time was way before she had gone missing or he had gotten married. Since they picked up where they left off, things were different. He might not see it, but she did.

She hadn't expected things to be the exact same. They were both different people from who they were three years before. She had gained a sister, and he had gained a failed marriage. They were still in the reacquainting stages.

Which was why she found herself hesitant to wake him up and tell him about the things that were keeping her from sleeping.

The hesitancy was partially because she knew she shouldn't be bothered by what had gone on. The rational part of her brain was telling her that these "memories" were just another evil plot by the Covenant or any of her other numerous enemies. Hell, they might be something that her father set up to make her stronger. She wouldn't put anything past him anymore.

She sighed and slid out of bed without a sound. Her spy skills came in handy at the oddest times. Grabbing a pair of pants out of a drawer and sliding them on, she walked out of the bedroom.

Her apartment was just the same as when she had left it earlier that morning to try to track down Sark. But for some reason, she felt unnerved by its very existence. She thought Vaughn would have suggested by now that they might look into finding a place to live together. It was frustrating, feeling like she was the only one wanting to move this relationship forward past where they had once been. It seemed like all he wanted was the same Sydney to comfort him as he worked through his problems.

"God, that sounded bitter," she mumbled to herself as she walked into the kitchen. "Do I really feel like that?"

She thought for a moment. Yes, she was a little bitter that things were not as magically happy as she had always imagined they would be when she and Vaughn received their second chance. But that's no reason to be mad at him. Anyone could have told her that it would take time to get the familiarity back. Things weren't going to be perfect off the bat.

Throwing those thoughts to the back of her head, she got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. After jumping up onto the counter, she chanced a glance out of the window. It was a relatively calm night. She could see the stars clearly in the sky. It looked peaceful.

"Doesn't match what I'm feeling at all," she mumbled. She looked down at the glass of water in disgust, realizing she had never really wanted it. Setting the untouched glass of water on the counter beside her, she slid off onto the ground.

The feeling of restlessness would not go away no matter how hard she tried. Usually she had to deal with something similar to this after every mission. She always went home too energized and full of adrenaline to just shift back into her "normal" life without a thought. Usually turning on a movie and trying to push all the thoughts out of her head helped her calm down.

This time, she had a feeling that the thoughts racing through her brain wouldn't allow themselves to be pushed to the back. This whole situation with Sark and their new, mutual memories wasn't something she was prepared to handle. Not when her life was so fragile and delicate.

Grabbing her denim jacket off of the hook by the door, she let herself out of the house just as quietly as she had slid out of bed. If she played her cards right, Vaughn wouldn't even know she had left him for a while. Then, she wouldn't have to explain why she hadn't been able to tell him what was happening.

It was funny how all she wanted to do now was keep the day's events from him. First she wanted to tell him everything, and now she wanted to relive none of it. She just wanted to file it away as another crazy occurrence in her life and never think of it again. Then again, if that wish were ever granted, if all the crazy occurrences in her life were filed away where she didn't have to remember them, she wouldn't have much of a life left to recall.

The street was deserted as she walked down it. "It's three o'clock in the morning, Sydney," she said to herself. "Of course there's no one around."

She kicked a stone lightly along the sidewalk as her mind drifted back to Sark. She couldn't place her finger on why these "memories" made her so jittery. They couldn't be true. That was just ridiculous. So then why was she so unnerved by them?

Frustrated, she kicked the rock a little too hard and it went sliding into the street. "Damn."

There was a small noise from the wooded area on her left. Acting on instinct, she crouched down behind a bush and watched as a young couple emerged from the trees. They were laughing and talking about what seemed to be nothing in particular. It reminded Sydney of the way she and Vaughn used to act when they found time to be together outside of the workplace.

"It doesn't remind me of Vaughn and I anymore," she mumbled standing up, daring the people to catch sight of her. The bitterness had returned, and she could care less if her presence ruined the romantic moment for these people.

She began to walk across the street. She had only made it a few paces into the road before she screeched to a halt as a particularly unwelcome thought formed in her head. The way that happy couple was acting had stirred her up because it reminded her of... Sark?!?

"Where did that come from?" she wondered, starting to cross the street again. Connecting such a happy scene to Sark made no sense. The only encounters she had had with him involved bitterness and anger. And guns. She couldn't forget the guns.

There was no happiness in sight during those confrontations. Except for maybe his glee at the few times he had bested her. But those instances were few and far between.

It was at that moment that she understood why her newfound "memories" were unnerving her so. In each and every one of them, she had been blissfully happy. And instinctively, she knew that happiness came not from herself but the fact that she was with Sark.

At one time, he had made her happy.

"That's it," she said balling her hands into fists in anger at the ridiculous thoughts in her head. "I am going to get to the bottom of this."

She began walking with a purpose. Although, in all honesty, she really didn't know where she was going. She had no clue where to begin figuring out what these memories meant. But for some reason, walking as far away from her house as she could go seemed like the right solution for the moment. She hated the fact that running away from her problems seemed to be the only solution worthy of being tried.

After thirty blocks and no new revelations, she felt her anger boil up again. "God damnit, Sark!" she screamed. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't do anything to you, Sydney?" said a voice to her right.

Sydney turned and stared at the man in question. "What the hell is he doing here so conveniently?" she thought to herself.

After adjusting to the sight of him for a moment, she decided that she couldn't believe that he was actually just standing calmly in front of her. It was infuriating how he always seemed to do this to her. Pop up when she both least and most wanted to see him.

Reaching into the pocket of her jacket nonchalantly, she cursed herself when she felt it was empty. "What a night to leave your gun at home, Bristow!" she yelled at herself.

Prepared to accept that shooting Sark was not a current option, she decided that she would just try to get some information out of him. That way whatever was about to happen wouldn't be useless to her. Voicing the thoughts that had previously run through her head, she asked, "What the hell are you doing here? When I lost you in Spain, I thought you'd be miles and miles away from Los Angeles by now. That's what a rational person would do, you know. Go into hiding."

"I didn't have anywhere else to go. And for some reason, I had a pretty sure feeling that the CIA wouldn't be making any more attempts to find me any time soon, banking on the fact that you didn't tell them about the strange occurrence that happened to us in Pamplona."

She looked at him suspiciously. "How did you know I wouldn't tell?"

"The same reason that I didn't tell any of my contacts. It's still too new and strange. People will think we're crazy if we start spouting off about fake memories and potential brainwashing. Especially ones that involve us willingly spending time with one another. It just doesn't make sense."

Grasping the full situation she had stumbled into, she glared at him. "Do you realize how pathetic this makes you look?" When he gave her a confused look, she tried to elaborate. "I mean, don't you have something better to do than follow me around like a lost little puppy that has no home?"

Sark gave her a funny look and motioned down at the ground. Sydney looked at where he pointed and noticed a leash in his hand connected to a small Scottish Terrier who happened to be peeing on a nearby lamp post. "I was walking my dog," he stated simply in case she couldn't put two and two together.

The only thing she could think of to say was "You have a dog?"

"I am a person. I do like animals," he said defensively.

Sydney managed to pull herself together. "I always pictured you as the animal torturing kind of guy, not a pet lover."

"I don't love all pets," he said indignantly. "Just Killer here."

"You named your dog Killer?"

"I thought it was ironic," he mumbled, picking the dog up into his arms. "So what brings you to my front doorstep at this inappropriately early hour, Sydney Bristow?"

"Your doorstep?"

"You know you really have to stop repeating my words back to me as a question. It's a nasty habit." He took a deep breath and pointed behind him. "This is my house. I live there. You're standing in my front lawn. I was just wondering why you made you way to here at three o'clock in the morning. Business hours are over, you know."

"You have a house?"

"Do you think I live in a hotel room or something? That I live my life day to day keeping all my ties to any sort of normal life to a minimum? That is such stereotypical thinking, Sydney. I wouldn't have guessed you would be one of those people." He sighed. "Contrary to popular belief, men like me do have houses they go home to. Not with wives and kids waiting for them, but houses none the less. I bought this one a few months ago when I realized my work would keep me close to Los Angeles. Plus, I didn't want to be too far from the woman I was sleeping with."

"Lauren Reed." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Michael Vaughn told you, did he? No secrets between you two."

Her mind immediately jumped to the fact that Vaughn didn't know she had left the house. And he didn't know what had gone on between her and Sark in Spain.

When the tension got too great and she broke eye contact, he smiled wickedly. "Or is there?"

After a moment of awkward silence, he asked, "Why are you here again?" She didn't respond, causing him to groan, and he began walking back towards his front door. "I bet you're going to chalk this whole encounter up to my freaky mind control," he called over his shoulder.

"About that mind control?" Sydney said as she cut him off from escaping into the house. "Is that really what's causing this?"

He narrowed his eyes and studied her intently. "This whole thing has really shook you up, hasn't it? You just don't know what to do with yourself anymore."

"Don't flatter yourself, Sark."

"You can't hide the fact that you've been thrown off a little. Not used to the excitement, it seems. Isn't Michael Vaughn enough for you anymore?"

She slapped him hard. "Don't you ever talk about him, Sark."

Sark reached his free hand up and rubbed his chin. "You've got a good slap on you, Bristow. Lots of men must have deserved one of those over the years for you to get so proficient at it."

Sydney was the one staring at him now intently. "I just want to know what's happening."

Sark sighed and set his dog back down on the ground. He motioned for her to have a seat next to him on the front steps of his house. "Honestly, this whole situation between the two of us has gotten so abnormal in the past twenty-four hours. My gut instinct is telling me that I should kill you now while you seem vulnerable." Sydney inched away from him slightly. "I'm not going to kill you, Bristow. So just settle down. For starters, just like you, I've left my gun in the house."

They sat in silence shoulder to shoulder for a few minutes. Sark was playing with Killer, making him turn around in circles to try to catch his tail, while Sydney just ran her fingers across the pavement, making them tingle like she used to do when she was little. "This is surreal," she muttered.

"Tell me about it," Sark responded. He stopped teasing the dog and placed his hands on his knees.

They returned to silence for a moment until Sydney broke it again. "What are you going to do with me then if you're not planning on killing me? I mean, I know the location of your secret lair," she joked.

"Maybe I'll just have to tweak the mind control thing a little bit." He was happy to see the side of her mouth turn up slightly into what he could only hope was a smile. "But honestly, I'm just as confused as you are. I can't figure out how it would be possible for you and I to remember the exact same things at the exact same times. And you know what the strangest thing of all is?"

"What?" Sydney asked, genuinely interested in hearing the answer.

"These memories, I can just tell that whatever they are, whether they're real or fake, they make me happy. If they were real, then I was happy with you once. And I don't think I can ever remember a time I was happy with my life." He paused. "Well, I guess these new memories mean that I do remember a happy time. But before now, I couldn't recall one."

"Oh come on," she said shaking her head. "You can't tell me that you have never been happy. Every little kid has moments of happiness when they're growing up."

"You don't understand, Sydney. I grew up not at home with my parents but in a number of different British boarding schools. Ironically enough, I was practically raised completely by a group of nuns. I thought Sister Mary Catherine was my mother up until I was six. At school, if I was lucky and I wished hard enough, I might get to see my father for every other Christmas. I was always the boy left alone at the dormitory for holidays. Which branded me as too strange to befriend." Realizing how odd his little confession was in the current situation, he shot a look at Sydney and tried to cover his emotional tracks. "But that didn't really effect me."

"Right," she said, unbelieving. They sat in silence for a moment before she added, "But you turned out relatively okay, I guess."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you have that whole cool mysterious murderer thing going for you. It has its own kind of charm to it."

Sark bent down and petted his dog lightly on the head. "Yeah, I guess it does." He stood up and made a move to go into the house. "I want you to know something." She looked up at him. "We're enemies. I think that's something at least that we can count on."

"Sure," she said with a small shrug.

"Regardless, something's shaken you up pretty bad. I can tell." He sighed. "This is going to seem strange. But you can come to me if you need me. If you get shaken up again or anything."

She just looked at him in shock. This was not the type of thing she thought Sark would say to her. In fact, nothing that had happened in the past twenty-four hours seemed characteristic of him. It was at that moment that she realized this situation might be unnerving him just as much as it was unnerving her. "I understand," she said softly.

"Listen, Sydney. I know that one day down the road, probably soon, the CIA is going to send you out to find me again. It's what we do, right? The whole running and chasing thing." She nodded. "I just wanted to tell you that you shouldn't let whatever these things in our head and whatever conversations we've had keep you from doing your job."

"Are you giving me permission to kill you?" she said, a surprised look on her face.

"Like you ever could," he said with a wink before shutting the door.

Sydney smiled to herself as she heard Killer yapping inside the house. She was stunned to realize that she wasn't so unnerved anymore. Talking with him had helped her get a handle on the thoughts and "memories" running through her head.

"Weird," she muttered for the second time that day. With a sigh, she stood up and began to make her way back home to where Vaughn was still waiting for her, asleep in her bed.


	4. Blackout

Author's Note: For those of you confused about this story, there is a backstory to it. I wrote a piece called "The Safety of His Arms" set during Syd's missing two years for a challenge at So, if anyone has questions as to why Sark and Syd seem so uncharacteristically nice to or happy around each other, the answer lies therein. Also, the story does occur in "real time." My first story could have actually happened without altering any of the events in Season 3. So, the point that all the characters are at is the point at which we last saw them, aka the Season 3 finale. From then on, it goes into an alternate universe (unless J.J. sees the genius in my story and decides to make it fact. Sadly, I don't think that's a feasible option...). I hope that clears up any confusion that might have been going on.

* * *

Her life returned to a relatively normal state of being after her late night run-in with Sark. Sydney still couldn't believe how much their conversation had satisfied the questions in her mind and made her put the whole situation behind her. Well, mostly behind her, considering she still thought about it at least once every ten minutes. But that was an improvement from every other minute.

What unnerved her most now was that it just wasn't right for her known enemy to have this "power" over her. To be able to put her at such ease without really even trying.

Frustrating didn't even begin to describe it.

The dynamic around the CIA facility was just as frustrating. Since Marshall had made his "slip-up", if she even wanted to call it that, there had been a general sense of something being a little off. She couldn't tell what, but there was something hanging in the air that she had never noticed. There was something she didn't know that she had a feeling she should.

She tried to ask Vaughn if he noticed the strange vibe, but every time she got him alone, he never really answered her question, at least not quite in the way she wanted him to. It was painfully obvious that Marshall would have been an easy target to corner and get the truth out of. Too bad he seemed to always be walking in the other direction whenever she saw him. Subtlety had never been his strong suit, and it still wasn't something he was good at now.

Once she could have sworn she would have gotten him trapped in the copy room, but miraculously her father swooped in to distract her for just long enough to let Marshall escape. This was the first time her father had approached her in the office since she found out how he had been "controlling" her life. The situation had conspiracy written all over it.

She tapped her fingers lightly on her desk and scanned the Rotunda. Everyone seemed rather busy for a Thursday. Suspiciously busy...

"And I'm becoming a paranoid freak," she muttered to herself as she sat up in her chair. Sighing, she flicked her mouse so that the screen saver popped off her screen. The Uplicore files were still there. It infuriated her when she wasn't out in the field on a mission, it seemed she was always stuck with the busy work.

"I mean, who honestly cares if this damn paint company might have ties to the Russian mob? What has the Russian mob done lately?" she muttered to herself.

"The question is what has the Russian mob done lately that we haven't known about," Weiss said as he took a seat on the corner of her desk. He threw a brown paper bag at you. "Lunch. I took the liberty of getting you a Turkey and Swiss."

She beamed and ripped into the bag. After a second, she looked up at him in shock. "No pickle?"

"I got hungry on the walk over to your desk."

"It's twenty yards."

He came up with another excuse. "I needed the energy."

"Whatever." She smiled again while she tore into the sandwich. "Thank you, by the way."

"No problem. It seems this is what my official job has come to include. Just call me the Sandwich Man."

"At least you're not stuck with the busy work on the computer. I would kill to be the Sandwich Man."

Weiss smirked at her. "You don't have what it takes, sweetheart. It's a lot of responsibility. Someday, though, if you work hard enough..."

Sydney laughed. "So, what did you really want? Besides making sure I'm still eating and keeping up my strength?"

He got a serious look on his face. "I wanted to ask what's been going on with you. You've been acting a little different the past couple days. And I don't recall the usual office memo that goes around when we've discovered another life-changing Bristow family secret."

"Are there really memos?' she asked, stopping mid-bite.

"Tragically, yes, there are. Your personal lives always seem to affect national security, so there's no way around it. Office memos are the only clear method of communication. Too bad the CIA hasn't learned about the downfalls of leaving paper trails. You think they'd watch a few more of the movies about their organization, but, no, they think they are above that. The CIA would be a well-oiled machine of world domination if they only learned from the fictional CIA's mistakes. " Weiss stopped talking and looked at her for a moment before changing the subject drastically. "So are you going to tell me what's up or do I have to torture it out of you with more mindless babbling?"

"Nothing is up," she answered shortly.

He looked at her again for a moment, trying to find a crack in her currently cool exterior. "Does it have something to do with Sark?"

She choked on her sandwich and had to take several gulps of water before she could talk. "What the hell made you say that?"

"Well, you've been acting strange since Spain. The usual Sark-apprehending mission never seems to bug you, so I just figured he might have said something that made you think twice about something."

"There was a lot of vagueness in that sentence. You really think something's wrong but have no idea what it is, don't you?"

"That's my general feeling towards you most of the time. One thing I've learned about you is you are a very hard girl to get a handle on, Syd."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She took a bite and set her sandwich down. "Listen. I'm working through a few things right now. Something Sark said to me threw me off. But I'm pulling myself back together. I'll be acting normal again real soon. So stop worrying."

"There's only one problem with that. I asked Vaughn what was wrong with you earlier, and he said nothing. How could something be upsetting you so much and your own boyfriend doesn't know about it?"

Sydney hung her head so she didn't have to look Weiss in the eye. "I didn't tell Vaughn."

He sighed and took a few deep breaths before speaking. "I thought your parents might have taught you this valuable life lesson, but it looks like you may need a refresher. Lying never helps a relationship become stronger, Syd. You and Michael are on shaky ground right now. You can't be hiding things like this from him already. It only leads to someone getting hurt in the end."

"I know that. I meant to tell him."

"I'm sure that you did," Weiss said, showing that he wasn't doubting her intentions. "But you're going to have to tell him soon. And hey! I think now is a perfect time to practice. Tell me what Sark said that upset you."

"No," she said firmly.

"Whoa. A little anger doesn't do a body good."

"It's not important," she said standing up. She threw the leftover paper wrapper from her sandwich into the trashcan next to her desk. "Thanks for the sandwich, Weiss. And the talk. But I'll be fine."

"You promise?"

"Yeah," she said with a smile.

She was happy to see that Weiss seemed to buy her excuses. Telling him that she was constantly remembering a time where she was incredibly happy with Sark was not something she ever wanted to go through. Especially not when she was still trying to convince herself that the situation was confusing rather than eerily straight forwarded like it seemed.

Not actually intending to go anywhere but now not wanting to return to her desk, she wandered down into the forensics section of the facility. It was fairly deserted, and she recalled overhearing something about their being a big crime scene somewhere in the city that had to deal with the Covenant or some other evil organization trying to take over another evil organization. For once, she was happy that something evil had happened. It gave her a much needed moment of peace and quiet.

Sydney was staring at a rather strange inscription on a book underneath a plate of Plexi-glass when her head started to pound. Before she had time to even lift her hand up to her temples, her eyes had become cloudy and she could feel herself lose her balance.

Within seconds, she could feel that she had fallen to the floor, but she couldn't get herself to stand up. Her head was pounding with such precision that she had to do everything in her power just to focus on the images flashing through her brain.

She was lying on the floor of her old house, barely conscious. Allison Doren was pulling herself up to lay against the opposite wall. This confused Sydney a little bit. Hadn't she just shot her three times? Who got up from that kind of a thing?

Sydney watched in horror as a team of masked men walked into the room and began to pour some kind of liquid over everything in sight. She reeled back as the smell of gasoline permeated her nose. Trying to move, she realized that she couldn't. She was just too tired.

Without any sign that she was conscious, she watched as one of the men walked over to where Allison was leaning. He pulled off his mask, and she saw the familiar blond hair of Sark. This confused her. He was supposed to be in a CIA prison cell, not scavenging for survivors at her house. She had personally apprehended him in Stockholm with Vaughn. They had hand delivered him to the CIA. This didn't make any sense.

She watched him touch Allison's cheek with affection, and she saw Allison look back at him with the same emotion. She wished she could just lose consciousness now. She knew at the time it probably hadn't felt this way. But in her heart at that moment, she felt a small pang of pain, something like heartbreak.

And it was at that moment that Sark turned and locked eyes with hers.

She could tell immediately that he knew she was conscious. There was really never any fooling him.

He dropped his hand away from Allison and began walking towards her. "I never thought this would be the way I died," she thought to herself. Sark bent down and felt for her pulse underneath her chin.

Any second now she was expecting to see him pull out a gun to finish her off. Which is why she was so surprised when he stood up and started yelling that someone needed to get her some medical attention right now.

If she had energy, she would have asked what he was doing. Her eyes locked with Allison's from across the room. The jealousy was plain to see. For whatever reasons, Sark was abandoning her to make sure that Sydney was all right.

Not knowing what else to do, she felt herself finally let go of her grip on consciousness as Sark lifted her up in his arms.

And with that last bit, Sydney sat up with a start. It took her a moment to realize that she was lying on the floor of the forensics wing where she had been taking a brief walk to avoid doing work. She had no idea what happened.

"Just another strange memory to file away with the others," she said, standing up and dusting herself off with conviction.

There was a voice in the back of her head, nagging her relentlessly. It kept saying that this memory wasn't as strange as she wanted it to be. It made sense. It fit right in nicely with all the other images she had been trying to suppress for days.

In fact, this new development actually gave her a more certain feeling that her other memories were true. If Sark hadn't been in the CIA's custody during her missing two years, that could provide for the time frame in which her other memories occurred.

Marshall's comments from a few days before rang through her head. "He said second attempt," she mumbled to herself as she began to make her way back to her desk before someone noticed she had been missing a long time. "Maybe he wasn't referring to evading me. Maybe he was referring to the fact that it was the second time Sark successfully got out of the CIA's custody. Which would support these new memories I have."

By the time she had pieced this little bit together, she had reached her desk. Sitting down, thoughts still kept racing through her head connecting more and more pieces to one another.

"And if he wasn't here in CIA custody for those two years, then everyone must have known. Which would mean everyone in this building has been lying to me for the past year." Realizing her mistake, she corrected herself. "No not everyone, just those that had a hand in the whole business with Sark. Like Marshall. Dixon. Vaughn."

She shook her head as she recognized a second mistake. "No, Vaughn probably wouldn't have known. He was distraught with my death. It would have killed him to know that Sark had also escaped. Dixon would have made sure to keep it a secret from him and most of the office. But that would mean he'd need some agents who knew the full situation. People he could trust. Like Weiss. And..."

She stared across the office at where Jack Bristow was talking to one of the tech guys. "...my father."


	5. Revelations and Repercussions

"Sydney," Dixon said to her for the tenth time. He had been standing in front of her desk for a couple minutes now trying to get her attention. "Sydney, can you hear me?"

"What?" she finally answered turning to him. She looked at him strangely. "When did you get here?"

"You seem to have been staring at your father too intently to notice that I've been calling your name for quite a while."

"I have to have a word with him again." She clicked her computer off. "And I have to have a word with you. But that can wait until later. What do you need?"

"We believe that the Covenant is making an attempt to steal the nuclear warheads that were recently "misplaced" by the Korean government. I'm sending you, Vaughn, and Weiss in to try to intercept the deal."

"I just got back from a mission," she pointed out stubbornly.

Dixon gave her a funny look. "That never stopped you before. The only time you ever want a break between missions is when something went down that shook you up. Since there wasn't any evidence of that in your report on the mission to capture Sark, I assume that's not the case."

"No, you're right," she covered quickly. "I'll be ready to leave within the hour."

Dixon nodded and walked back to his office. Sydney watched his back disappear behind the closed door. It was hard to believe that this man had been lying to her for the past year. He had been the one person she trusted implicitly throughout her time as a double agent for SD-6 and the CIA. Dixon had been the only good thing that came out of Credit Dauphine.

And now he was one of the people that she was disgusted with. He was one of the people who were lying to her on a daily basis for no reason that she could foresee. If there was something about her missing two years that she didn't know about, they had an obligation to tell her.

Taking one last look at where her father was standing, she sighed and got up. Her head hurt too much to keep thinking about what had just happened, and she was too tired to have the conversations she knew would need to be had at some point. Plus, she had a mission to prepare for.

* * *

"Vaughn, are you there?" Sydney said into her earpiece. She was happy to hear his voice respond immediately.

"Yes, I'm here, Syd." He paused, and she could tell that he was thinking something over before continuing. "Can I ask you something?"

Sydney grabbed a hold onto a particularly strong looking crack in the massive wall of rock she was climbing. "This might not be the best time."

"It's the only time. Weiss has taken a bathroom break, so he's not monitoring the channels. Listen, Syd. I need to know why you requested that both of us stay behind in the communications center instead of me providing you the usual back up that you need."

"I don't trust Weiss," she said bluntly. Realizing that this wasn't going to be a quick conversation, she began to climb again as she talked. "I remembered something about my missing two years. Or at least I think it's from my missing two years. You see, I'm not sure if it's my imagination trying to create memories I know I could never had or if I'm actually seeing the truth."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're not going to elaborate any further?"

"No." She grunted and hefted herself up a few more feet. "But I will tell you that if what I'm remembering is true, most of my friends at the CIA have been hiding some crucial information from me for way too long."

"Weiss being one of them?"

"To start, yeah. At this moment, I don't have much trust for anyone." She paused in her climbing to catch her breath. "Except for you. You can say that Lauren did at least one thing worthwhile. You being with her and quitting the CIA, there's no way you could be a part of what I'm remembering. I still have you to rely on."

"That's good to know." She could hear the sound of door opening on the other end of the channel. "Okay, Syd. Are you almost to the top?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll go radio silent until you've emerged with the cores of the warheads."

"Got it. See you in a little while." The channel clicked closed.

Sydney sighed and started to climb again. This mission should be about as easy as it came which gave her an uneasy feeling. Whenever she had an easy mission to go on, she usually ended getting shot or worse.

The rock face was starting to smooth out, giving her less and less hand and foot holds to choose from. She tried to push the non-mission related thoughts out of her head and focus on the increasingly more difficult task at hand.

Ten minutes later as she was almost at the top, she took a second to breathe and wipe the sweat out of her eyes. She was so tired mentally and physically that she didn't jump when she heard gunshots being fired from above her. She plastered herself as close to the rock as she could manage and hoped the men firing at her would give up soon.

It took her a little while to realize that there were no way the gunshots were being directed at her. She had heard them coming from above and there was definitely no sign of bullets whizzing past her head. So, there was some confrontation happening above her.

She smiled, realizing her luck. This would be the perfect diversion to use to get herself up and into the facility without being noticed. In the back of her head, she wondered if this was something that the CIA had set up to help her.

As she made a move to grab the edge of the rock where it turned from a straight vertical into a horizontal plane, the noises of gunshots stopped abruptly. It threw her off, and she almost wasn't surprised when her hand slipped completely off the rock.

The fingers on her other hand, the one still connected to the wall of rock, gripped it as tightly as they could while she tried to use her feet to give her enough purchase to fling her dangling hand back up over the edge. This was her only option. There was no way she could turn her earpiece back on to tell Vaughn she needed assistance. If she didn't get up this rock wall by herself and soon, she was dead meat. It was all on her to get out of this predicament.

The first try was not hard enough and took a little out of the hand that was holding most of her weight. She realized that she probably only have one more shot in her. If she missed this time, the force of the try would make her lose her grip completely.

"Well, this is it," she whispered. Taking a deep breath, she flung her hand up into the air. For some reason, it didn't surprise her when it hit the wall and couldn't find anything to grip onto to. She had resigned herself to what was about to happen just about the moment her other hand let go of the wall.

Which was why she was so confused when she didn't fall more than a few inches. As she worked her feet back into a couple notches in the rock, she felt a hard pressure on her left wrist. Looking up, she found herself face to face with Sark.

He was leaning over the edge, face gritted in determination, as he held her left wrist in both of his hands. With a groan, he used his leverage to drag her up and over the edge, safely depositing her on the ground next to him.

When she had caught her breath, she looked over at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Agent Bristow. But it's not really necessary. We're both here to get those warheads."

"You're the agent the Covenant sent in to negotiate for the warheads."

Sark shook his head and stood up. "No. I'm the agent the Covenant is paying on the sly to steal the warheads while the appointed designate is trying to negotiate for them."

"So when the warheads are stolen, the Covenant can't be blamed. Their operative never left the sight of the negotiations. That's a good plan."  
  
Before he could register the shift in dynamic, Sydney had stopped talking admirably about the Covenant's smart plans and was holding a gun to his face. "Is this the thank you that I get for keeping you from plummeting to your death? Because if it is, I'd rather had a nice head nod while you walk away to go do your job."

She clicked her safety of. "I'm not in the mood. There's a lot of shit I'm going through right now, and you seem to be at the middle of all of it."

"And pointing a gun at me is going to fix all of it? I don't think so." He smirked. "I never thought you would be one to take the easy way out."

She was about to respond to him when she registered his fist coming in fast at her face. There wasn't time to block his blow, so she just grounded herself and took the punch. He hadn't pulled it at all Therefore, the force of it threw her down to the ground and launched the gun out of her hands at the exact same time.

Cursing, she dragged herself up and was greeted with a boot to the stomach. "I didn't want to do this, Bristow. But I have a job to do."

She growled and pushed him hard so that he hit the side of the rocks with a smack. The sound of the air being forced out of his lungs was extremely noticeable, and she saw him gasp for air. With a smile, she punched him hard in the face.

He immediately snapped back. "Not hard enough," he taunted, having managed to catch his breath again. He grabbed her arm and flung her against the wall, effectively switching their positions.

Sydney bent down to dodge his next blow. She was satisfied to see his face wrench in pain as his fist connected with solid rock. If she was correct, there may even have been the satisfying sound of bone breaking. While she was bent down, she grabbed a rock.

As Sark turned, shaking off the pain in his hand, she wound up and launched the rock at him. It hit on the left side of his head. The blow didn't seem to phase him that much. What actually phased him was holding his hand up to his temple and pulling it back to see blood. "You bitch," he hissed with anger, flinging himself at where she stood.  
  
She felt herself being tackled, and as they hit the ground, she felt him punch her hard in the side of the face. It would have hurt a lot more if she hadn't chosen that moment to roll, his blow then falling a little off the mark. She rolled back up onto her feet and swore. Her lip was bleeding pretty badly where his blow had split it open. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to hit a girl?"

Sark dragged himself to his feet. "Who ever said you were a woman?" he sneered.

Things had gotten ugly rather quick between the two of them. Sydney couldn't believe that this was the same man who had let her sit on his doorstep and talk about her problems. He had even offered for her to come back if the nervousness and constant worrying returned.

Maybe he had a good twin out there to match his normal evil twin self.

Having caught her breath as much as she could, she threw a kick at his head, which he dodged. She used the momentum of her swinging leg to crouch herself down in order to throw her other leg around at ground level. Sark felt his legs go out from under him before he registered what she was doing.

Sydney threw herself on top of him and started pummeling him with punch after punch. "Why the hell aren't you fighting back?" she screamed when he didn't even shield his face from her. This wasn't their normal protocol.

Sark blocked her next blow and rolled her over so that she was lying below him. He just stared down at her without saying a word or making a move to hurt her again. His weight was keeping her from getting out from under him and away from his unsettling stare.

Before she could figure out what exactly had changed, there was the sound of a number of gun safeties being clicked off. Sark and Sydney both turned to see a handful of guards with firearms trained on them. If they weren't so tired, they probably would have killed the guards just for looking at them with disgusting sneers on their faces.

A short, balding men stepped out from behind them. "You spies never learn. Especially you, Julian. If you would just work with one another, you'd never be caught. But no, you always have to stage some epic battle during the middle of your mission. That is how you always get caught!"

"Who the hell are you?" Sydney hissed.

"I'm the man who has a few warheads that want to be sold without interruption." He turned to the men with the guns. "Throw them somewhere they can't get out of until we are far, far from here."

Sydney had planned to put up a good fight. With both her and Sark working together, there probably wasn't any group of goons in the world that could keep them under their control. As she thought up her fist move, she chanced a look at Sark, hoping to see what he was planning on doing. What she saw threw her strategy off completely.

He looked defeated, almost resigned to let this anonymous man take him into his custody.

In the whole time she had known him, he had never looked defeated. He was always defiant of whoever was trying to oppress him. It was a constant.

That was when she realized the situation they had gotten into was worse then she thought. For some reason, Sark wasn't going to put up a fight. Something was really wrong.

* * *

Once the thugs had brought them inside, they were split up. Sydney was questioned, but when they realized she wasn't going to reveal anything, she was thrown into an empty cell. She hadn't been frightened by the situation at all. The mysterious bald man had clearly said that she and Sark were just to be held under his business was finished. That meant no killing.

The part of all this that had actually frightened her was Sark's reactions to everything. When one of the guards said that he was happy to be in a position in which he could kill Julian, he made no move to attack him or even sneer.

The only sign of life he gave was when the same guard mentioned that Sydney was too pretty to be in this line of work and maybe he should spend some time with her alone while they waited for the boss to be done. Sark had reacted instantaneously and without thinking. He slammed the guard up against the wall and whispered something in his ear that Sydney didn't hear. The guard didn't say a word for the rest of their walk down to the prison level.

She sat alone in the cell with her thoughts until, ten minutes later, Sark was thrown into the cell with her.

She watched in silence as he picked himself off the floor, wincing in pain, and took a seat on one of the rather sad looking cots they had been provided with. He didn't look good. One of his eyes was closed to being swollen shut, and she could tell the way he was favoring his ride sight that some of his left ribs might be broken.

"They really worked you over, didn't they?" she said with a laugh. He didn't respond. He didn't even look over at her.

She tried again. "Who was that guy?"

There was still no response or recognition that she was even in the room. "What the hell is his problem?" she thought to herself. Not wanting to dig through whatever psychological reason was behind his silence, she sighed and lay down on the other cot. She put her hands over her eyes and tried to think of ways she could get out of this horrible situation.

After a few minutes, the silence got to her. She decided as much as it hurt her, she was going to ask him his opinion. At least she would get some sarcastic comment back about how she wasn't a good enough spy to deduce it on her own. A sarcastic comment would be better than the current state of silence. "So, how are we going to get out of this one?"

He didn't respond.

She stood up and stomped over to where he sat. Standing in front of him, she put one hand on her hip and used the other to grab his chin and tip his head so that he was looking at her. "Okay. I'm getting a little tired of this ignoring bullshit. We're stuck in a cell together. You're going to have to talk to me sometime if we're going to get out of this."

She took a deep breath. Maybe anger wasn't the best way to get through to him. She decided to try a little sarcasm. "So, what fantastically awful and off-the-wall plan have you come up with?"

"I don't know," he said shortly.

She waited for him to elaborate and when he didn't, she returned to the angry method. "Listen. You need to tell me what you know that I don't since you don't seem in a hurry to help me get out of here."

"You'll get out of here," he said knowingly.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because number one, I know you. You're not here alone. I'm sure that very soon your precious little boyfriend will realize that you've gotten yourself into another bind, and he'll come barreling in here to rescue his damsel in distress. Number two, it's not you they really want to antagonize. It's me."

"And how do you know that?" Sydney said, taking a seat back on the other cot. She was slightly proud of actually goading him into talking. Maybe she really was as good at getting what she wanted as people always told her.

"The man who captured us is an old acquaintance of mine."

He really wasn't going to tell her more than he had to. She realized that now. "And what do you mean by old acquaintance? That could mean anything."

"He was the man who taught me to be the person I am today."

"And what do mean by that? Did he teach you how to shoot a gun? How to kill people without feeling? How to always come up with a snarky retort? You're going to have to elaborate."

He just stared at her.

She got up and walked over to sit next to him on the same cot. "Why are you being so distant?" He looked over at her, and she could see a flicker in his eyes signaling that he was teetering on the edge of something. He only needed a little push, and she had a feeling just what would do that. "Is there something I did to make you mad?"

Just as she thought, that comment sent him over the edge. "No, Sydney, you've done nothing to make me mad, except be completely oblivious to the situation we're in."

He got up and started pacing, wincing in pain the whole time. After a moment, he turned back to her. "Do you want me to answer your question from before? The one about what exactly they did to me to put me in such pain?"

She didn't even want to nod. He was really scaring her. She watched as he stalked over to her as fast as his aching body could allow.

"They didn't lay a finger on me." She looked at him in confusion. He sat down on the cot next to her. "I know what you're thinking. Someone must have done this to me. Well, someone did. You."

She let his words sink in. It hadn't occurred to her what she had been doing to him on that rock ledge until just that second. She hadn't been pulling her punches at all, like she normally did. She had let herself go completely. She had lost control. That was something that had never happened.

"I'm sorry" were the only words she could think of to say.

He smirked at her, and for some reason this familiar gesture of his made her feel even more uncomfortable. She crossed her arms and inched away from where he had sat down.

"Do you know what the funny part is? It isn't even the physical pain of it that bothers me. It isn't the fact that you seem to be capable of doing things I never thought you could. Don't think I didn't notice the brutal way you were hitting me." He paused, making sure that he didn't meet her eye. "The most distressing part of all this is the fact that I would let you beat the crap out of me every day of the week as long as I could see you."

She looked at him in shock at his words to her. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "It's a long story."

He seemed to be retreating back into his shell. She couldn't let him do that. "Then, start from the beginning. We don't have anywhere to be at this moment."

"My life is not the same as yours, Sydney. It never has been, and it never will be. We come from different worlds. Every time I talk to you, that's painfully clear. I get through every single day by living with the pain. Over the years, I've learned to tolerate it mostly."

"I don't understand," she interrupted. "You seem to be pretty content with your lifestyle. And in my opinion, you don't have such a painful life."

"Then I've done a good job of hiding it. But if you think about it, I'm sure you can see what I'm talking about. People like me have don't live happy lives. We don't get married and raise a family. Our lives are lonely from the moment we're born to the moment we die. You see, someone like me can't let anyone get close to them if they're going to make it through another day. And in the end, we die alone because of this. It's something to look forward to, I guess. When I'm gone, there will be no one to mourn me. No one to say how much I mattered to them. No one to visit my grave and be saddened for a brief moment. I have no one, and I need no one. That's the only way to live if I want to survive this personal hell I call my life."

He looked at her and when she didn't say anything, he continued, "But you see there's one problem with that. I lived like that once. I thrived on the loneliness and the hollowness of each day. But now I just can't get myself to go back to the way things were. I've tried with all my might. It's just not happening."

"What changed?" Sydney asked in barely a whisper.

"You," he said with a sad smile. "It's painful for me to know that I let you in once. During that one brief period, you were my whole world. It doesn't change what I knew it then, and it doesn't change what I know it now. It's not the natural course of events for you and me to happy with one another."

"How do you know that you let me in once?"

"Because I remember doing it. I remember cursing myself every night at how easy I had been on you, how I had let you walk all over me. At the time, I couldn't think of one reason why I seemed to be acting that way."

"And now?"

"Now I know why I was acting that way." He looked over at her. "I've only had one real weakness in my whole life. And that is you, Sydney Bristow."

She sat in silence staring down at her hands.

Sark stood up and kneeled down on the floor in front of her, making it impossible for Sydney to keep from meeting his eyes. "God help me, but I love you so much, Syd. And it's going to be the death of me. I know it, but I don't care."

She was about to respond when there was a loud thud on the door to their prison cell. Sark stood up and walked over to the other side of the room just as the door burst open and Vaughn walked in.

"Sydney! I didn't know what had happened to you when you didn't check in. I thought you might be dead." He paused as he saw her eyes staring over at something behind him. He turned and met eyes with Sark.

"Vaughn," Sydney said as she saw him reach for his gun. "Where's Weiss?"

"He's back in the van, waiting for me to return with you."

She put her hand on his gun and forced it down away from Sark. "We need to get going then. If we're not back soon, he'll probably send a whole assault team in to get us. And then everything will be ruined." She got up and winced in pain as the movement reminded her of the injuries she had sustained from her fight with Sark.

"Are you all right?" Vaughn said, rushing over to put his arm around her.

She nodded, and he began to lead her out of the room. As they reached the doorway, she saw him hesitate and look back at where Sark stood. 

"Don't," she said softly meeting eyes with Sark. "He's in enough pain already. Just leave him."

Vaughn looked at Sydney for a moment in confusion and then nodded.

She had to talk with Dixon and her father. Her eyes locked with Sark's for one last moment before Vaughn led her out of the room.

She had to talk with them now.


	6. Life Imploding

Sydney did not even bother to take a shower or change her clothes before charging through the CIA facility. No one paid attention to her anyway. They were used to people running or storming around, especially her. It seemed like there was a new crisis every week that sent her rushing from one room to the next demanding answers and getting none. The fact that it was Friday and the end of a "normal" workweek was in sight did not help the cause.

This time, however, it was more of a personal crisis than a matter of national security. Therefore, she took time to smile politely at people as she was rushing past.

"Dad," Sydney said coldly once she had made her way over to stand before his desk. "I need to talk with you. Now."

"That's a new development, Sydney, considering you haven't spoken a word to me in three months, and the last time you spoke to me was to make sure I was clear that you didn't want to see me ever again."

"And you wonder why I did that when you treat me so warmly. Good parenting, Dad." If she didn't really need to hear some explanations from him, then this was the point where she probably would have thrown something in the direction of his head.

"What do you need, Sydney?"

"Answers. Why did you never tell me that Sark was out of CIA custody during the years I went missing with the Covenant?"

Jack didn't flinch at all at her words. "I didn't think it was necessary for you to know."

"Not necessary?" She looked at her father in disgust. They had had a falling out, true. But she really didn't think he would revert back to the cold, distant father figure she had known before they both got entangled in the lives of double agents. "How do you deem that information unnecessary?"

"It didn't affect you in anyway."

She found herself laughing, mostly out of pure exhaustion. "Sure, it didn't affect me. Do you want to know how much it didn't affect me? Every day that Sark was out of the CIA's custody, he was by my side. We spent my whole missing two years together. He was probably the only real reason that I was able to make it through that time with my life. Not the thought of returning home to you and Vaughn. Not the thought of avenging whoever wronged me by stealing away two years of my life. Sark."

Sydney let her words sink in for both herself and her father. She hadn't meant to say some of those things. They had just come out of her mouth, leaving her wondering about why all the sudden she was so sure that Sark had helped her through the two years she was in hell. The newly returned memories were still fresh in her brain, and she hadn't processed their exact meaning.

It made sense to her that Sark had offered her aid. The way he had sounded when they were locked up in that Korean prison cell... he would have done anything and everything for her. It was a tone she was familiar with, a tone she had always associated with Vaughn in the past.

The fact Sark had slipped so easily into the role Vaughn had always filled was amazing to her. If she had to make a split second decision on who to go to with a problem, she wouldn't be able to. There would be hesitation. Her mind was in such a haze. She didn't know what to do. The only logical thing left to do was try to focus and get to the bottom of how much her father and Dixon knew.

Snapping herself out of this stunning new development, she asked her father, "What do you have to say?"

"You lied to the CIA."

"What?" she hissed. Her father's logic was escaping her at the moment.

"You've seen Sark, and he's been feeding you lies. You told the CIA that he evaded you in Pamplona. That must have been a lie."

"Just so you know, I might have lied to the CIA about that but only because they lied to me in the first place. I remembered parts of my missing two years when I was in Spain, the parts that involved Sark. It threw me off. I mean, if Sark had been missing during the two years I was gone, I think I would have known about it. Turns out I was wrong to assume any of you would tell me." She paused and looked at her father, desperate to make him understand the underlining meaning to her next sentence. "And I've seen him two times since then."

"And you haven't told anyone. Is he blackmailing you into silence? Is he holding something important over your head to get you to comply?"

"No. He's actually telling me the truth. And that simple action is making me have faith in him. He's not going to hurt me."

"I never thought your mother would hurt me."

"Oh don't try to mold this into another thing you can blame on Mom. Not everything goes wrong because of what she did to you. A lot of the things can be strictly attributed to your own personal screw-ups. Learn to take some responsibility for your actions." She looked at him in disgust. "And while you're at it, you might as well learn to stop trying to protect me. It's not your government-sanctioned mission anymore."

"No, it's just my duty as your father." Both of them looked down as the phone began to ring. "If you excuse me, Sydney, I need to take this."

For a moment, she was horrified at him and his inconsideration. After that moment, anger was the only thing left.

She reached out and yanked the phone as hard as she could. Then, she launched it across the room. "We aren't done yet, Dad," she said through her teeth. "You have a little more explaining to do. So, if you thought that my knowing Sark wasn't in the CIA's custody was unnecessary, why did you hide it from me when I returned?"

"We didn't hide it from you."

"Oh, I beg to differ. Many times after I returned, you told me of moments where Sark wouldn't give you intel you need during my two missing years."

"He didn't give us intel because he wasn't here," Jack explained.

"That's incredibly shady, and you know it. You lied to me. You crafted your sentences specifically to keep me from knowing. What was so important that you couldn't let me know?" She practically screamed the last sentence. The people who hadn't looked at them when she chucked the phone were now staring.

They stared each other down for a moment, neither one willing to let their pride go. Eventually, they were broken up by Dixon who had been making his way over to where they stood. "What is going on here? Jack? Sydney?"

Sydney didn't take her eyes of her father. "Good. You're here. I need to talk to you, too, Dixon, and I might as well do it now."

"Did something happen, Sydney?"

She turned to him, hate written across her face. "Oh, nothing new for you. Something new did happen for me. Why was it deemed unnecessary to tell me that Sark wasn't in CIA custody during my two missing years?"

Dixon exchanged a look with Jack. "You weren't supposed to find out."

"My father made that clear." She sent a dirty glance his way. "But as we know, my father isn't so good at keeping secrets from me. And still, that is nowhere near a good enough reason for me. I need more."

"Honestly, Sydney, we didn't do it to hurt you."

"Then why did you do it?"

After a moment of hesitation, Dixon sighed. "Sark requested it. One of the questions you should be asking yourself is how did we get him back into our custody. How is it possible that a man who evaded our custody so many times was just brought back in a few days before you woke up in that alley? The answer is he just showed up one day. There was a messenger who said that he had a prisoner transfer that was top level security. I went out to take a look at it. There was Sark, unconscious, strapped to a gurney."

"He just turned himself in?"

"There was a note saying that if the messenger had strict instructions that if I didn't sign an agreement, Sark's body would be taken back to where it came from. The agreement was that if I took Sark back into custody, no one had to be aware that he had ever left it. We covered up his disappearance when he first broke himself out of custody."

Sydney held up her hand to stop him. "We?"

"Your father, Agent Weiss, Marshall, and I."

"Exactly who I thought was in on this," she said. "Continue."

"When Sark first disappeared, we figured if no one knew he was out there, he might be easy to pick up off the street. We didn't find him. By the time we were ready to give up our top secret search, it was too late to tell everyone that he wasn't in our custody anymore. It would have destroyed any faith the government had in the CIA."

"So you were just going to pretend like he was still here for the rest of his life? That's absurd."

"You don't understand," Jack said. "He didn't pop up on anyone's radar. The man wasn't doing anything. He stole nothing. He contacted no one. He traveled nowhere. It was like he virtually didn't exist."

"The first we heard of him was when he showed up unconscious on our doorstep," Dixon added. "Like I said, all he wanted was for no one to know that he was gone."

Something clicked in Sydney's head, and his request suddenly made sense. "That self-sacrificing bastard," she muttered.

"What?" Dixon said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

She looked up at him. "By every right, I shouldn't tell you what I just realized. You never showed me the same consideration." She sighed. "But I will. Sark's request was because of me. He didn't want me to know that he might have been with me for my missing years."

"Why would he not want you to know?' Jack asked.   
  
"Because I might remember how much I meant to him."

"I always knew that bastard had his eyes on you. It wasn't healthy the way he seemed fixated on foiling every one of your missions."

Sydney looked at her father. "The other reason he wanted to keep his whereabouts a secret was because he thought I would remember how much he meant to me. Because he was my world by the time I was done working for the Covenant. He was the only person I had in my life. He was my rock."

"You sound as if you worked with him intimately during your time missing," Jack said rather coldly.

She looked over at the man she had once trusted with her life. "He was my partner. So you can say I worked with him intimately. On and off the field."

Jack's reaction was instantaneous. "Are you saying you had a relationship with that murderer?" he screamed as he grabbed her hard by the shoulders.

"I loved him," she said defiantly. Inside, she knew the comment threw her off as much as it did her father and Dixon. Outside, the two men were the only one to show a reaction.

Dixon took stock of the situation and decided to intervene. "Do you still love him, Sydney?"

She was about to tell him she didn't know when she felt her father release her shoulders. "She can't," Jack said to Dixon.

"What do you mean I can't?"

"It's not acceptable for your job or for you personally to be affiliated with that man. And that's the end of this discussion."

"You call this a discussion?" Sydney looked at Dixon. "Is that how you feel, too?"

"As an agent of the CIA, you cannot be affiliated with Julian Sark. He is an enemy of the state and one of the top names on our most wanted list. There is no way you could continue whatever was started between the two of you during those two years."

"So, both of you are forbidding me to talk to him again? To try to figure out what exactly happened between the two of us?" She looked at them both in shock. "I don't believe it."

"Believe it," Dixon said. "It might seem hard for you right now. But I think it would be better if you never found out what happened between you two. Just put it behind you and move on."

"And if I don't put it behind me? What will happen then?"

Jack smirked. "I'll personally see to it that you get assigned to a desk job that will keep you as far away from Sark as you could possibly be. Continued interaction with that man is not permitted."

"Who the hell made you boss?"

"I stand by this decision," Dixon said. "You can't see him."

Sydney just looked at them once more and walked away. She couldn't take arguing with them anymore, not when they were being so irrational. Didn't they see how important it was to her to figure out what exactly was going on? Sark seemed to be the missing piece to where she had been and what she had been doing working for the Covenant. He was all she had.

She ignored Dixon's calls for her to come back. The CIA couldn't help her make sense of the situation. That was clear. Stopping quickly at her desk, she grabbed her keys and made her way out of the facility. She needed to go somewhere where she could think a little more clearly because the only thought running through her head was how much she wanted to run to Sark.

* * *

By all rights, Vaughn's apartment should have been empty for her to return to and a great place to try to clear her head without anyone trying to find her. Vaughn was away on a mission to India, and Weiss would have gotten word that she had found out about the secret they had been hiding from her so he would stay away from any place she might be until she made contact. The rest of the people who had once been important in her life weren't in her life at all anymore.

The apartment wasn't as empty as she thought, though.

She opened the door to see candles lit scattered throughout the room. The dining room table had been brought into the middle of the room, and there were two place settings prepared on it. Flower petals were scattered intermittingly throughout the room, and she could hear soft jazz playing in the background.

"Hello?" she called out hesitantly.

Vaughn popped his head out of the kitchen. "You weren't supposed to get my note for another forty-five minutes," he scolded.

"What note?"

"The one I left for you at your apartment."

"I left work early and came straight here," she said as she shrugged out of her coat. "I needed some time alone where no one could find me." She looked around at the setting she was in. "What is all this?"

"A surprise. You and I haven't had an opportunity to do something like this since..." The thought of Lauren and what she had done raced through both of their minds. "...well, we haven't done this in a long time."

"It's nice to come home to," Sydney admitted, sitting down at the table. "Did you order Chinese?"

"No, I cooked you some exciting French cuisine."

"You cooked?"

"It shouldn't be so shocking. I do know a few recipes that my mother taught me when I was little."

Sydney smiled and took a sip from her full wineglass.

"So, why did you leave early?" Vaughn asked as he set a plate down in front of her.

"I had a rather loud argument with my father and Dixon," she said. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was the time she had been dreading for days. She'd have to tell Vaughn about all the things she had been holding back from him.

"Okay. I can understand you arguing with your father, but Dixon?"

"They have both been hiding something from me. Weiss and Marshall, too."

"Weiss and Marshall?"

"Yeah, I didn't believe it at first either." Sydney took another long drink of wine. "Turns out that Sark wasn't in CIA custody for the two years I was missing."

"Where was he?"

"He was with me. We were partners working for the Covenant." She looked across the table at him. "He was there for me when I didn't have anyone."

Vaughn laughed. "Don't forget who he is, Sydney. I'm sure he was just doing it to further whatever was his plan at the time. Either that or he was doing it just to mess with your head."

Her gut reaction was to defend Sark to Vaughn, but she caught herself before she actually did it. She wasn't ready to explain to Vaughn how much Sark had meant to her during her time with the Covenant. He wouldn't understand. "It's hard. They lied to me about something that turned out to be really important. Like normal, I feel betrayed. It feels likes someone is always betraying me."

Sensing the mood darken, Vaughn smiled at her. "Then let's not talk about."

"Good idea." Sydney took a bite of her food. "So, what's the special occasion?"

"Does there have to be one?" he asked with a smile.

"Not necessarily, but I have a feeling that there is. You usually only order dinner from a restaurant as a surprise, not cook it yourself and then decorate the whole apartment. Something's up."

"Fine." He stood up. "I didn't want to do this until we were through with dinner, but I'm actually getting antsy, too. And I'm sure you'll just keep pestering me until I tell you why I set this whole thing up."

He kneeled down on one knee in front of her and reached into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" she asked, thinking she already knew the answer.

"I love you, Sydney. And I don't want to lose any more time than we already have. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He opened the ring box. "Will you marry me?"

Her eyes widened at the sight of the diamond ring. She couldn't get herself to form the words to respond even though she was trying really hard. It seemed like her voice had failed her, and her mind was just racing with a multitude of thoughts and scenarios.

"Sydney?" he said hesitantly while taking the ring out of the box. "Are you going to say something?"

"There are things you need to know before I answer you," she said when she finally managed to get her wits back about her.

Vaughn looked at her funny and stood up. "That's an interesting response. What things do I need to know?"

"I've been remembering things from the time I went missing. And I've been keeping them from you. At the time, I thought they would just upset you. Now, though, I realize that I was holding them back for the same reasons that Dixon and the rest were lying to me. I thought it was unnecessary information. I thought that it would be better if you just didn't know. But I'm so confused right now. I just can't go on without giving it more thought."

Vaughn put his hand lightly on her shoulder in comfort. "Jesus, Syd. What's shaken you up so much?"

She shrugged away from him. What she was about to say was going to hurt him, but she didn't know what else to do. "Sark wasn't only my business partner during my two missing years. We had a relationship that went past the work field. We were lovers." She could feel Vaughn stiffen next to her at the last comment. Maybe she had been a little too blunt.

After a moment, he carefully asked, "And how exactly is that relevant at this moment? How is it relevant to me proposing? Explain that."

"I told you that there were things I had to give thought to. These new memories have shook me up pretty bad. I just don't think I'm in the right state of mind to be deciding on whether or not to accept a proposal."

"What's going through your head is not real memories, Sydney. They can't be."

"And why is that?"

"There's no way you would get involved with a man like Sark. The Sydney Bristow I know would kill herself first before lowering herself to his level."

"He's not a monster," she said, practically screaming as Vaughn's words rubbed her the wrong way.

He was noticeably taken aback. "I never thought I would hear you defend him."

Sydney sighed and covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry. What you said just rubbed me the wrong way. You see, that's exactly what my father said. But I know what's in my head. I did get involved with Sark. It was my choice, and I chose to get involved with him. And at the time, he was the only sane thing in my life. No one I loved was there for me, to help me get through the pain the Covenant was putting me through."

He looked at her, disgusted. "Are you still blaming me for moving on with Lauren?"

"No. For once, this is not about Lauren. I know I blamed you at first. But I know why you did it now. You couldn't hold on to some small hope that I was alive. It would have been ridiculous. I'm just saying that I saw you with her, and it unnerved me. I was rushing home to be at your side, and there was someone already there."

"If I had known you were alive, I would have broken off anything I had with Lauren. My life was only about you from the moment that you stepped into the CIA offices five years ago."

"I know that you would have. And that's the problem. I don't know if that's what I would have wanted you to do by the time my two years of being missing from the CIA were up. I can't say that I would have still wanted you to leave Lauren for me."

"What happened to change that?"

"When I was with the Covenant, I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. Sark was there to help me sort it out. I was lost, cut off from everything I knew."

"You sound like you remember a lot about your time with him."

"It's less specific moments and details and more a general feeling."

"Of love?"

She couldn't look him in the eye. "It might have been love," she lied. She knew that it was love, but it just didn't seem right to tell Vaughn that.

Vaughn walked away to the other side of the room and stared out the window. "I just don't understand this, Sydney. Two days ago you were fine."

"That isn't exactly true. This has been going on for a few weeks," she admitted. "Since you and I went after Sark in Pamplona, to be exact."

"You've been struggling with this for that long and you didn't tell me?"

"I just couldn't. I don't know why."

"You didn't trust me enough to be able to handle it."

"It's not that. I do trust you." She walked over to him. "I guess I had a feeling that you might react in this way, and I was scared."

"Is it wrong of me to feel a little betrayed? I feel like you have been carrying on this secret affair." He closed his eyes and held his hands up to his temples. After a few minutes, he looked over at Sydney. "You shouldn't let these memories effect your happiness. I want you to marry me, no matter what you did in the past. What went on between you and Sark is the past." He paused to let her say something. But she didn't say a word or even look at him.

Something dawned on him. "Unless this isn't in the past. You still love him, don't you?"

"I don't know," she said through the steady line of tears that had threatening to fall for the past few minutes. "I'm just at such a complete loss. I've handled so much in my life, but I just don't know how to handle this. I don't know what to do to make this right."

"I'll leave you to your thoughts then." He grabbed his coat off the hook on the wall and opened the door.

"Why are you leaving?" she asked quietly as he paused in the open doorway.

He turned back to her and shut the door quietly. "Because I'm as confused as you are. I thought that you loved me completely, Sydney. I think I might have been wrong."

"I loved you just as completely as you loved me. Once. We aren't the same as we were, though. This whole relationship is new again. It's different than it used to be. Everything's... new."

"And it hasn't felt right to you. I've known that. I just didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to admit that after so long you didn't want me anymore. I didn't want to believe that I had missed my opportunity for a second chance with you. "

"You haven't missed anything. This might not feel right at this very moment, but it could be," Sydney pointed out, walking over to where he stood. "In time."

Vaughn looked down to the ring that was still in his hand. "This ring was supposed to give us that time, Syd. I really thought this was what you wanted. I thought you wanted to take this step with me."

"A diamond ring doesn't represent everything I want from you," she said. "All I've ever wanted is just to have someone beside me who I know is there for the right reasons."

"And you don't think that's me."

"I think that, at this point, you and I are just here because it's easy and because it's the thing that everyone expected. We still have to talk through a lot of what happened with Lauren and with us. I don't think I'm ready to get engaged until we get that huge elephant out of the room."

"I bet if Sark was asking you, you wouldn't hesitate." She looked hurt and disgusted at the same time. It didn't go unnoticed by Vaughn. "Shrink away from me all you want. You haven't had to hear yourself talking about him. It's damn clear that you feel something for him. You talk about him like you used to talk about me. You just said that you loved him once. Love doesn't just disappear because it isn't convenient."

"Exactly," she said, looking at him intently. "Our love wouldn't disappear even when you were married. The feelings I have for you aren't just going to disappear because I find them inconvenient or because they have a few kinks in them still."

"Your feelings for Sark aren't just going disappear either."

"Can't we just forget about him for a moment? I love you, Vaughn. I do. So I don't see why you should be pulling away from me now."

"I'm not the one pulling away, Sydney."

"I'm not pulling away. I'm just trying to sort things out. These feelings are so new to me. All of the sudden I have all these feelings I didn't know I had. I love Sark." She froze, realizing what she had just said. "I mean, I loved him. I loved Sark once."

It was just too much for Vaughn to handle. "That's not what you said. You can deny it all you want. You still love him. And if that's the truth, I don't think I should be the one leaving."

Sydney looked at him in horror. "Are you kicking me out of your apartment?"

He opened up the door. "I think you should leave. If you can be in love with a man like Sark, then you should leave." Turning, he looked her straight in the eyes. "And don't come back."

The words stung her worse than anything she had ever gone through. His harshness was so uncharacteristic of the person she believed him to be. She didn't know what to say to make him change his mind, so she just left.

The door closed with a bang behind her, leaving her out in the cold by herself.

It was going to rain, she realized as she began to walk down the street.

Almost on cue, it started to pour down on her. She had left her jacket back at Vaughn's apartment. There was no possibility of going back for it. Her car keys happened to be in the jacket's left pocket.

"Looks like I'm walking home in the rain."

About two blocks later, the full extent of what had happened that day finally hit her.

Everyone who claimed to care for her was suddenly deserting her. She had been issued ultimatums and promises that day which told her that there was no one she could trust enough to talk with about the thoughts rushing through her head.

At the time she most needed someone, everyone had abandoned her.

"Everyone," she muttered, trying to wipe the raindrops and tears out of her eyes.


	7. Someone

The man on the other end of the phone was getting on Sark's nerves. His contact in Russia had been assigned to find the information he wanted over two weeks ago. And all of the sudden that night, he decides that there's no way he can betray his family to get Sark the information.

"You get it now or I will hurt you myself," Sark growled into his cell phone, unconsciously squeezing it so tight his knuckles had begun to turn white. He could hear the man pause while he thought over the threat that he had just served up. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Mikhail?"

He heard the man sigh and knew that they had made a breakthrough in their short lived relationship. "If you can get to St. Petersburg by tomorrow, I may be able to set up a meeting with Mr. Romanowsky. There's not guarantee. But I can tell you that this will only work if you get here soon. If you wait too long, this offer will be off the table. The boss doesn't like men who screw around with him."

"I'll be there," Sark said. He snapped the phone shut without another word. Persistent threatening was his most effective negotiating tool. It never let him down.

This was the break he had been waiting for since he started recalling that he hadn't been in CIA custody for two years. He was determined to figure out what his initial reason of working with the Covenant had been. He knew that after seeing that Sydney was there, she had become his reason for staying. In the back of his head, he knew that she wasn't his reason for coming.

He went into the bedroom and began shoving clothing into a suitcase, determined to follow this lead as soon as possible. There had to be a midnight flight to St. Petersburg out there somewhere. It was as he was throwing a pair of sunglasses into the bag that he first noticed it was raining.

The second thing he noticed was that there was an unidentified lump on his front porch.

Knotting his forehead in concentration, he let go of the blinds he had been holding down and made his way outside. Chances are it was just some homeless bum trying to get out of the rain a little. He was in a good mood so he wouldn't send the guy out into the rain, but he had to at least make it clear to the man that he wasn't getting any farther out of the rain than the front porch.

The words flew right out of his mind as he realized it wasn't some random person on his porch. "Syd?"

She didn't turn around to face him. Instead, she got up and started walking away, back into the rain.

He didn't hesitate. Running out into the downpour, he yelled, "Where are you going, Bristow?" After he had grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him, he added, "What happened?"

She still didn't say anything.

"You're crying."

"How can you tell that?" she finally said. "It's raining."

"Because I know you, Syd. And you're crying. Tell me what happened."

"I shouldn't have come here."

"No, you probably shouldn't have. But you're here and we can't change that."

She threw her hands up. "I didn't know where to go. There was no one else. I shouldn't have come here."

He stopped her from stepping around him and leaving. "No, you don't. If you have nowhere else to go, you shouldn't be leaving. Not when you're this upset."

"Everyone I know would kill me if they knew that I was here."

"Well, we'll just have to not tell them. It's pouring, Sydney. At least come up onto the porch." When she didn't say no, he guided her up onto the porch. Pushing his luck, he asked, "Why don't you come inside so you can actually explain why you're so upset?".

"I can't." She gave him a look that reminded him of the way he was normally used to seeing her. "It would be improper for a single woman like me to enter into a bachelor's home without proper supervision."

"You afraid of what I'll do to you, Bristow?" he said with a smirk.

"I think you're the one that might have to be afraid."

He smiled at her. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. Humor can't distract and neither can your shameless flaunting of your sexuality." He gestured to the door he had left open when he rushed after her into the rain.

After a moment of hesitation, she started to walk towards the door. Sark could feel her pause at the door for a millisecond. Letting her pause and debate about whether to go in, he patted her on the arm and went into the house. He returned with a handful of clothes. "Change into these."

She looked at him with a grin. "Most spies I know would have taken a less blatant approach to get me to take off my clothes."

"I promise I won't look," he said, turning his back on her.

Sydney smiled at him and grabbed the clothes out of the hand he had extended back over his shoulder. She could tell it threw him off that she was actually following his orders.

"Did anyone follow you?" Sark asked to keep the conversation going and try to eliminate the little bit of awkwardness that was creeping in.

"I don't think so. The CIA has no reason to be tailing me. At least, they didn't before today."

Sark nodded, letting the small hint as to what she was upset about go for the moment, and they returned to silence

After a few minutes of quick changing with only a few checks to make sure that he couldn't sure he wasn't peeking, she took a deep breath and looked back at where Sark was sitting. He was absentmindedly rubbing his side.

"Is your side still bothering?"

"Well, you did a pretty good job on me. How are you dealing with your complete and total lack of bruises?"

"I can't help it if I'm better at my job than you." She walked over to stand beside where he was sitting. "Thank you for the clothes."

"My mother always said that any situation could be made better by having on dry clothes and a smile."

"Really?"

"No," he said with a laugh. "I barely knew my mother. Sit down, Sydney. I'm not going to force you to go inside my house with me if you don't want to. We can just sit here until the rain stops and then you can go home. You don't even have to talk to me."

"It's too cold out here. And my mother always said that any situation can be made better by being inside where it's warm."

"Irina said that?"

"No. Let's go inside," she said.

The decisiveness of her words and the joking tone told him that she wasn't just trying to be brave. "You don't have to."

"I want to."

Without a word, they went inside out of the rain. Sark knew that he should probably be pushing her to tell him why she ended up on his front porch in the middle of the night, but he really didn't want to break the non-confrontational mood they were both in. It wasn't often that he had a conversation with Sydney that didn't involve much yelling and at least some sort of physical abuse, mostly on her part. He was actually beginning to look forward to the bruises.

"I thought it would be a little sleeker," she said looking around at Sark's home. "I pictured you as the leather furniture, black paint, sexy bachelor pad kind of guy. Not worn-in couches and… are those books?" She walked over to the wall he had shelves built into a few months earlier. "You read?"

"Contrary to what you may think, I did go to school and get a proper education like most kids. Just so happened I was the kid who snuck out on secret missions whenever I got bored."

She laughed and fingered a few of the books' spines on the shelf in front of her as he went into the other room. He returned in seconds with a towel in his hands. "You made me forget for a second," she said sadly.

"Forget what?" He handed her the towel and took a seat on one of the previously mentioned worn-in couches.

"Forget that I screwed up my whole life in under two hours." She expected him to say something more. When he didn't, she turned to look at him for the first time. He was sitting patiently on the couch looking at her. She was surprised to realize that he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. Definitely not the kind of clothes she was used to seeing him in. Trying her best to both keep from staring and laughing out loud, she started toweling off her hair. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Stop trying to avoid telling me why you ended up on my doorstep."

"My father and Dixon admitted to hiding the fact that you escaped from CIA custody. When I asked them why, they said they thought it wasn't necessary for me to know."

He nodded. "I wouldn't expect any less from them."

"Then, my father tried to forbid me from even thinking of you ever again." Sydney walked over and took a seat next to Sark on the couch.

"Well, that didn't work so well. I mean here you are, thinking and seeing me at the same time." He smirked at her. "Something tells me that you're the kind of person who when she's told she can't have something wants it even more."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Sark put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a little closer to him. He expected her to immediately pull away, but when she didn't, he allowed himself to relax just for a moment. "What else happened to upset you? Because the CIA screwing you over isn't that new of a concept. They've done it a million times."

"Vaughn proposed to me."

"What?" Sark yelled., standing up and walking a few steps away from the couch where they had been sitting. He turned back to face her. "Why the hell are you here with me on the night you got engaged?"

"I didn't say yes."

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Why not?" Okay, he really hadn't meant to encourage the continuation of this conversation. Which was why when she hesitated in responding, he clarified, "Never mind. I don't think I really want to know."

"It was because of you."

"Me?" He sat down next to her, completely shocked. "What do I have to do with you and the love of your life?"

"I'm a little confused right now. And Vaughn's not the love of my life."

"He's not?"

"I don't know. Like I said, I'm confused. I'm still trying to process the memories from my missing two years. He asked me to marry him, and I told him that I couldn't say yes until I figured things out. I thought it was a realistic reason."

"That doesn't explain why you're here with me right now, Syd."

"I'm here because he kicked me out of his apartment." She could feel the tears starting again. "God damnit. I told myself that I was done crying."

"You shouldn't hold tears in."

"Is that something your mother told you?"

"No, I learned that one all on my own."

"You know he told me never to come back," she said abruptly.  
  
"That bastard."

Sydney laughed as she saw him reach for where his gun was usually holstered. "You know it wouldn't surprise me to find that you carry a gun even when you're wearing sweats."

Recognizing what he had been unconsciously doing, he laughed. "You would be wrong. My Glock just doesn't go well with these pants."

They sat in silence after that last comment, neither one really knowing what to say. It wasn't uncomfortable, though, which Sydney was glad for, but it definitely wasn't chock full of comfort.

"So, why did he kick you out? It wasn't just because you turned down his proposal, was it? Because if it was, that man is more stupid than I ever thought."

"No. He was just angry with a few of the things I had to say."

"Like what?" Sark said, leaning back against the couch and slipping his arm around Sydney again.

She knew the easiness of this move should have unnerved her. At the very least, she should have felt obligated to hit him a few times. Instead, she just felt grateful that at least she had one person who cared about her enough to just give her comfort by listening. "Oh, it was nothing big. I just said that I was remembering a few things about my missing years. You were the trigger to the memories. We had been a little more than partners while I was working for the Covenant. And oh yeah! I loved you." She could feel Sark stiffen at the last part. "Please don't freak out."

"I'm not going to freak out," he assured her, forcing himself to relax again. "I just wasn't expecting you to say that. At least not quite yet. I know that you're having a harder time remembering what went on between us. I figured that it would take a home cooked meal and a dozen roses to get you to admit that you even liked me."

"Why do you think I'm having so much more trouble than you at this whole remembering thing?"

"I think it's because this whole thing is more of a shock to what you would label normal than it is for me. I mean, finding out that I had fallen in love with you, Sydney, didn't surprise me in the least. If you hadn't have kept shooting at me every time we met, it probably would have happened sooner."

She smiled, not knowing what to do with this new, nice Sark. It was nice and all, but it was almost bordering on creepy. A creepy she was beginning to enjoy, but a creepy none the less.

"Stay with me for awhile," he said out of the blue. He felt her tense up in his arms. "Now who's freaking out? Listen. Before you say no, think about it. You have two whole days before you have to go back to work. You're not going to want to see any of your friends or family before you calm down a little and comprehend what's gone on. A few days away from all that might be good for you. Plus, I have books. You could read."

She didn't say a word or even crack a smile. She just stood up and walked into the next room. It seemed like the events of the day were finally hitting home. She was shutting down. With a sigh, he got up and followed where she had gone into his bedroom. He was generally surprised and even a little pleased to see her pulling the covers back on his bed and sliding in almost as if she had been doing that exact thing for quite a while. She seemed to be at home in his home.

"I wasn't going to say no, Julian" she said, turning over to face him even though she kept her eyes shut. He was thrown off by her casual use of his first name. It was still odd to him that she even knew it. "I was going to thank you for giving me an easy way out of the mess I've created."

Sark nodded and turned off the lights. "Get some rest, Sydney. Maybe you'll want to talk some more in the morning. But even if you don't, you're still welcome to stay."

Just about when he had almost completely shut the door to his bedroom, he heard her call out his name again. "Yes?"

"Who said I wanted you to sleep on the couch, Mr. Chivalry?"

He opened the door again and saw that she hadn't even opened her eyes. Sighing, he shrugged off his t-shirt and laid down next to her. No reason to argue with the lady. Not when she was being so agreeable.

It didn't surprise him as much as it should have when she pushed herself back into his arms.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Any time," he said before shutting his eyes and willing himself to remember this rare moment. He had a feeling that after the night was over, she would be running away from him back to her normal life.

* * *

Sark remembered the previous night's events before he had even opened his eyes the next morning. He just lay in bed thinking about the fact that Sydney was there next to him. Reaching his hand out, he made contact with… air.

His eyes flew open, and he took in the fact that even if Sydney showing up on his doorstep hadn't been a dream, she wasn't waiting on his doorstep any longer.

"As if I didn't know that was going to happen," he cursed himself. He looked down at where the bag he had been packing before Sydney showed up was discarded on the floor. "You know, I should be pissed that she screwed up the one chance I had to find out what was behind the whole mystery of our lives and those damn two years, but I'm not." He smiled to himself. "It was worth it."

Picking up his shirt off the floor, he slid it on and walked out into the front room. What greeted him was definitely the best surprise he'd received in a long time.

"Waffles?" Sydney said with a smile, holding up a pan.


	8. Comfort

Sydney opened her eyes slowly, not really wanting to wake up. Trying to put some reason to Vaughn's irrational reaction the previous night was next to impossible. Sleeping had become her best option.

"You need to wake up."

She heard Sark's voice before she saw him. "Don't wanna," she mumbled trying to fall asleep again as soon as possible.

The couch shifted beside her as he sat down. "You can't just sleep forever. You're going to have to wake up and deal with whatever's going through your head."

She sat up and looked at him, sleepily. "I thought you said I could hide away here for the weekend."

"I said you could physically hide here. I don't want to see you emotionally hiding. It's cowardly." He shrugged off the glare she sent his way. "It's the truth. You're an incredibly strong and sexy woman. You shouldn't have to hide from anything."

The blush that spread across her face was incredibly endearing. "I just don't want to think about what the people I love did to me."

Sark reached out and grasped her hand. "I know it's hard to deal with. I've been living with this kind of thing for years, though. My life has just been chock full of disappointments, and I'm not just saying that to make you feel bad for me. I'm extremely comfortable with my life so far. I just wanted to let you know that it does get easier to handle."

"How quickly does the hurt go away?" she asked softly.

"It doesn't," he said after a moment of hesitation. "The hurt will always be there. It just gets easier to handle."

Sydney didn't respond to him at first. After a few minutes of silence that was beginning to border on a little uncomfortable, she finally said what was on her mind. "When did you get so thick-skinned?" 

"Somewhere between my mother dying and the nuns at the boarding school telling me that no one would ever care enough to show me love."

She was about to tease him for laying it on thick for the second time in five minutes when she caught a look in his eyes. She had to use all her self-control not to gasp. He was telling the truth. "When did things change between you and I?" she wondered out loud, determined to shift the subject to another topic. "I mean, here we are, sitting in your home. You're actually opening yourself up to me. When did we get like this?"

"Honestly?" He pulled her close to him. "I think it might have been when you chucked a shot glass at my head because you were piss drunk." She chuckled. "You remember that?"

"Yeah. That was another moment of pain caused by Michael Vaughn."

Sark winced. The bitterness hadn't lessened at all in the twenty hours she'd been at his house. "Let's leave that man out of our conversation unless you're ready to deal with how much he's hurt you." She grinned at him with a wicked flare in her eye. "What are you thinking about? Hopefully not the man we just agreed to not bring up again."

She laughed loudly, and Sark was surprised to find himself thinking it was charming.

"I'm remembering where that conversation ended up," she said, grinning at him.

Flashes of memory of being in bed with Sydney ran through his head. "Yeah. That was a good place. We should go there more often."

Without warning, he felt Sydney begin to cry. It threw him for a loop. Mood swings weren't usually her cup of tea. Rather quickly, it all made sense. "The hurt's kicking in again." She nodded. "Do you want me to cheer you up?" She nodded again.

Sark pulled Sydney onto his lap. "Do you know the first moment I realized how much I loved you?" He felt her stiffen. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

She squirmed slightly in his arms. "No. It's just this is all so new to me. You've adjusted to it so well, but I just can't fathom it."

"I know. It must be hard to adjust to the fact that you once loved a murderer."

"It's not so hard when you're being like this." She leaned her head up against his chest. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Not sure. I guess you bring out the best in me, Sydney. You always have. And I have a feeling that in our time together with the Covenant, I didn't have much of an opportunity to let you know how much you meant to me."

"I imagine we spent a lot of time arguing," she said thoughtfully.

"You and I can't carry on a conversation without a little bickering. I've always found it to be one of your more charming traits."

"I don't understand it, either. I'm never this way with Vaughn."

"I thought we weren't going to bring him up." Sark pushed her away slightly so that he could look her in the eye. "Does this mean you're ready to start talking about how you're feeling?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she insisted. "It's too painful."

"You're going to have to start talking about it sometime. The sooner you do it, the quicker the pain will lessen."

"I thought you said you weren't going to pressure me," Sydney said, sliding off of his lap and onto the other side of the couch. "You said I could have a pressure-free weekend here."

"I'm not going to pressure you." 

"That's what you doing. You're trying to get me to talk about things I don't want to."

Sark took a deep breath. "I don't want you to keep it locked up inside. Right now, I'm the only one you have, Syd. And I know from experience if you don't talk to someone about what happened, it would only get worst. I never had anyone to do that with, and look where it's got me. Before you bulldozed your way into my life, it wasn't that charming."

"I don't bulldoze," she said with a pout.

"Honey, you have no other way of entering a scene. You're a bulldozer."

"And you're a jackass," she growled.

"Duly noted." He smirked to himself. "But that wasn't something you just learned, was it?"

"No. That was something I've known for years. I just haven't seen that side of you in a while."

He sighed. "I'm not trying to be like the bastard you think I am. Someone has to give you a little tough love. You're hurting right now, but you have to be upfront about what happened. Ignoring it is not going to change anything."

She knew her yelling was almost completely irrational. After all, the man had just opened up his home to her when she was the most pathetic soaking wet ball of tears. She had expected herself to try to avoid the situation. What she hadn't expected was that Sark would know her enough to realize that was what she was doing and call her on it.

Sydney stood up. "I'm going to take a shower."

Sark nodded and turned his attention away from her. She paused at the door as a weird feeling washed over her. All of the sudden, she was scared that the things she had said had hurt him. Maybe he was just being polite to her while he waited for a chance to kick her out. The possibility of that was heart wrenching.

She turned back to face him, sitting on the couch. "What's the matter, Syd?" he asked, noticing the strange look on her face.

"Promise me you'll be here when I come back."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said with conviction.

With a weak but genuine smile, she left the room.

He tried to ignore the thought that kept creeping into his head as he worked his way through another ridiculous, mass-produced American sitcom. It worked for about half an hour before it got too much for him. It was next to impossible for a healthy man to ignore the fact that Sydney Bristow was ten yards away, completely naked.

"And I'm just sitting on the couch. What is wrong with this picture?" He turned the TV off with the remote and sighed. "If only I knew it wouldn't scare her half to death if I acted on impulse and joined her."

Figuring no matter how clever he could be there was no way he could find a way to get Sydney to accept a willing partner to wash her back, he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number. "Mikhail. I want to apologize about not showing up this morning. There was some important business that I couldn't put off."

"Mr. Sark, you shouldn't be contacting me. I told you that the meeting I set up was the only one I could manage. My boss does not like the fact that you are jerking him around."

"I told you that business came up. I need you to get me another meeting."

"Impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. Do it," he demanded.

"Even if I did do it, what then? Would you just blow it off like the first one?"

"Don't take that tone with me. You're just a lowly contact of mine who happens to be very useful to me right now. You're convenient, but I don't need you."

"I will take any tone I want with you. I hold the power. And I don't like it when I have to explain to the boss that the meeting I begged for is not going to take place because Mr. Sark got a little- how do you say it- frisky?"

"What are you insinuating?"

"I do my research. Mr. Sark has a soft spot for letting his hormones come before his work. You see, I watch my back. I know that your important business was some hot brunette who came to your doorstep. The boss does not like to be passed over for some bimbo that gets you going." 

Sark took a moment to calm himself before he started screaming things that would assure a future meeting with Mikhail's boss would never take place. "That woman is the most lethal spy I have ever met. So, don't use words like that in connection with her."

"Have I hit a nerve?"

"Why are you goading me, Mikhail? You know I can have you killed."

"You wouldn't dare. Besides, if you did, I'm sure there might be retaliation. Not towards you, but your little spy whore might have an accident."

"Do not threaten her," he growled. "She is the only good thing I have going in my life right now. I would rather never know the answers I've been seeking than leave her in pain with no one to turn to." He swore silently to himself. He was giving this guy way too much information that could be used against him. "I have my loyalties," he said seriously, hoping to steer the conversation back on track.

"And they all seem to be for her." 

"Damn right! She's the only thing worth the effort," Sark screamed. He was beginning to realize that this whole conversation might have been a mistake. "I don't know why I'm even talking with you about this."

"Because you need me."

"Just work on setting up another meeting," he hissed, slamming the phone shut and throwing it onto the coffee table. He rubbed the corners of his eyes, trying to phase out the headache that was forming before it really started pounding.

"That was a nice show," Sydney said from the doorway.

"What did you hear?" he asked without looking over at her. He didn't want to see her look of disgust at the fact he was conducting business with a man as shady as Mikhail. Since Sydney had come into his life, he had found himself trying to be a little more respectable in his dealings. It was not good to let on that he was slipping back to some of his old, less respectful contacts.

"Just that I'm the only good thing in your life right now."

"Oh. Well, as long as it was just that." He sighed knowing that he was going to have to do some fancy talking to keep her from being scared from that comment. "Listen, Sydney. I know what--"

His voice caught in his throat as he looked at her for the first time. She was standing in the doorway to his bedroom wearing only a towel. Her hair was wet and clinging to her neck, begging him to walk over and brush it away from her. It was taking all his will power to keep from physically attacking her on the spot.

She smiled at him and sauntered over to sit down next to him. "I was standing in the shower thinking about you."

"Sydney," he warned. "Be careful what you say to me right now. I'm not in the right mind."

She giggled. "I want to know the first moment you realized you loved me."

"Have you been drinking while you were taking a shower?"

She glared at him. "Don't be stupid."

"Go put some clothes on," he demanded abruptly.

"But I want to know," she pouted.

"Go put some clothes on now."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"Horribly, yes."

"Fine." She walked into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of cotton shorts. "I'm clothed. You can relax now."

"I can never relax when you're within five hundred feet of me, Sydney. It's a curse."

"It's good to know that I still have that effect on men."

"I don't think you'll ever lose it." He leaned back against the back of the couch. "So what took so long in the shower?"

"I had a lot to think through. You said some things earlier that didn't sit too well with me at first." She sighed and sat next to him. "Something happened to me when I was in that bathroom. I don't want to have a breakdown. I really don't. It would satisfy them too much."

"That's the stubbornness I like to see."

"My father and Dixon were right to try to keep me from you."

"What?" he yelled, looking furious.

"I'm not saying I agree," she amended quickly. "I'm just saying that I see where they're coming from. They don't know you like I do. They know you're capable of murder, but they don't know that you're also capable of saving people. You saved me when I was kidnapped by the Covenant. You kept me sane. Given time, I can convince them that you're not a completely evil person, no matter how much you want everyone to believe it."

"You're going to be the death of my hard-earned reputation."

"Damn right. I mean, what kind of man wants to be known as a ruthless killer?"

"Me! I want to be known as a ruthless killer."

"You have problems." She smiled at him, and he could feel his heart jump. He realized she was right. Something had happened to her when she was taking her shower. It seemed like she had had an internal struggle with her inner demons for her general well being. He was glad to see she had won.

"So, you've squared yourself with your father and Marcus Dixon?"

"Their ultimatums were unacceptable. But I know they're just trying to keep me safe. I can deal with them. I mean, it's not like this is the first time they've tried this stuff with me."

"So…" he said slowly. He really didn't want to bring up the subject of Michael Vaughn again. But he had to know if she had come to a conclusion about the man she had once loved with all her heart.

"So what?"

"Agent Vaughn? What about him?"

"The situation between us hasn't been right for a long time. We both changed in the time we spent apart. I'm a different person, and he just can't accept that."

"He doesn't understand what it took for you to survive working for the Covenant." Sark rubbed her thigh lightly. "You've gotten harder, a little more callous."

"It had to be done."

"To survive, I know. That's how I got the way I am. Only I had to do it for a lot longer than you did. You still have the option of reversing the damage."

"I don't see it as necessarily a bad thing. I might not be the same innocent Sydney, but I think my hard skin has helped me in the field since then." She sighed. "Which brings me to another issue. Vaughn just doesn't understand how much of myself I had to surrender to my job. He doesn't understand I accepted these changes for a reason. I sacrificed everything I once had for national security."

"Not every woman could do what you do. It's very admirable."

"Thank you," she said. It was taking all her might not to bat his hand away from her thigh. It was also taking all her might not to encourage him to go a little farther. "I don't love him anymore," she said abruptly.

"Good revelation."

"My father always said he wasn't good enough for me. I never understood it. I think I do now. Michael Vaughn wants me to be the perfect woman he had envisioned in his dreams. I think I could have been that for him if I hadn't been taken by the Covenant. But I was. And he just couldn't accept the fact that I didn't have the ability to be perfect anymore." 

"Who wants perfect? I'll take a flawed woman any day."

"Well, you're in luck. I'm just full of flaws."

Sark leaned in and nipped the nape of her neck lightly. "Your flaws taste good."

"Stop it," she said with a laugh. "This is serious. I've had life-altering revelations."

"In my shower," he pointed out.

"Yes, in your shower. I've decided that I can live with the concern my father and Dixon have for me. As long as I tell them what's going to go on and don't budge, that situation should be fine. And I think I'm done with Michael Vaughn. What he did was inexcusable, but it opened my eyes to some really important things. He doesn't love the real me anymore." She looked at him intently. "But you do, don't you?"

"Now I'm wondering how we got to this point," Sark said, pulling himself back from her. He needed a little distance if he wanted to finish this conversation. Distance would keep his raging hormones in check.

"That's easy. You saved me from descending into some horrible place that I couldn't come back from. I don't know why you did it. And I don't care." She rested her head against him. "So, tell me. When did you first realize how much you loved me?"

He laughed. "There's the one track mind I know and love."

Her heart stopped at the casual mention of love. "Oh, yeah. I can get used to this," she thought.

"Believe it or not. It was when I realized that you stopped sleeping with Simon Walker."

She wrinkled her brow. "I don't think I remember this part of our time together."

"You were using him to keep your mind off of what you were being forced to do by the Covenant."

"Murder and kill innocent people that I should have been protecting?"

"That and betraying me to the CIA. He was a welcome distraction. And he made you feel like you were worthwhile."

"And you didn't?" she asked. She really didn't remember this part of her missing time at all. It was really hard to imagine a time when Sark didn't make her feel worthwhile. He had been the greatest singer of her praises practically from the day they first met.

"I ruffled your feathers. You hated me with a passion. Emphasis on passion." He smirked at the memory. "I disappeared on you after the first night we slept together."

"I remember that part."

Sark winced. Oh, she was definitely still pissed about that newfound memory. It would take a lot of charming to get her to forgive him for that one. That was a task for another day. "And I came back to warn you that Simon Walker wasn't good for you. After our conversation, you stopped sleeping with him. And it was that moment that I realized how horribly desperate I was for you."

"That's a little twisted. You loved me because I stopped sleeping with one of your adversaries?"

"No, I loved you because you stopped sleeping with Walker for me. I came back, and you wanted me as much as I wanted you."

"That's a little less twisted." She reached up and traced his jaw line lightly. "You gave up a lot for me, didn't you?"

"I would give up anything to keep you from getting hurt."

"You did give up something important. A certain business meeting, if I heard correctly."

"You heard that?"

"Yeah, I heard that."

"It was nothing," he lied.

"It was everything, and I'm grateful. I needed you to be there for me last night, and you were." She sighed. "I don't want to leave tomorrow."

"You don't have to. You can stay here as long as you want."

"I have to return to the CIA. They would have you hunted down and killed if they knew this is where I was hiding."

"They were the ones that pushed you in this direction."

"In a twisted way, yes."

"But I understand where you're coming from. You do have to go back to them." He got eerily silent for a moment. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"Whatever you do, don't let Michael Vaughn sweet talk his way out of what he did to you."

"That I can promise."

"And promise that you won't just write this weekend off."

"Oh, I can guarantee I won't be doing that," she said. "Now, I'm tired again and want to go to sleep." 

She got up and walked over to the bedroom doorway again. When she reached her destination, she turned around and gave him a come hither stare. "Are you coming?" 

"Absofuckinglutely," he said with a devilish smile.


	9. Seeking Some Closure

With a heavy sigh, Sydney pulled the keys out of the car's ignition and stepped out of the car. It wasn't that she was unhappy to be returning to her apartment. She had just been so happy to get away from her life that it was hard to push herself back into the daily routine. Plus, she was well aware that there were a great number of difficult conversations to be had in the coming days.

As she took the spare key out from underneath a potted plant by the side door, she glanced back at the car and shook her head in disbelief. It wasn't every day she got a chance to drive a BMW without worrying about a car behind her trying to shoot her. "I think I finally understand Sark's fascination with them," she said to herself as she pushed the door open.

She had been surprised when he offered his personal car to her for her drive home. He had been extremely accommodating to her in every single aspect, but this was almost above and beyond what anyone would be expected to do. When she initially refused, he had told her the only other option was having him drive her there himself.

"And that wasn't an option." She slapped the spare key onto the kitchen counter. For a few brief seconds when he offered, she considered letting him drive her home. She would have been given more precious time to keep herself from focusing on seeing Vaughn and her father again. Knowing that was a rather cowardly move, she had shaken the fantasy away and told Sark no.

One quick breath was all Sydney allowed herself before launching into her routine of getting ready for work. She had about twenty minutes in which to shower, change, and figure out a new mode of transportation.

"First things first." Sydney picked up the phone and dialed Weiss's home number. "Eric?"

"Sydney. Thank god. I was wondering when you'd be calling me. I've been worried sick."

"And why would that be?"

"Michael told me that you two had a fight and you walked out on him."

Her blood began to boil at the idea that it had been her doing the abandoning. She hadn't expected Vaughn to leave out such an important detail when he told Weiss what had happened. "Not exactly. Listen. I don't have much time to talk. I'm running a little behind this morning. I need you to drive me to work."

"Because you left your keys and your car at Vaughn's."

"Exactly."

"I'll see you in twenty."

Sydney slammed the phone done in a rush to move on to the next item on her list. She did pause a few seconds to realize how nice it was to have a good, reliable friend as a neighbor. "But sometimes it's a little annoying," she said, realizing she had a definite problem now that Weiss was going to give her a ride to the CIA facilities.

Taking the quickest shower in her life, she threw her hair back into a bun and threw on a pair of shorts and t-shirt that were on the floor. After grabbing Sark's car keys off the counter, she ran outside barefoot and launched in the car. She had as much nerves running through her stomach as on any mission while she pulled the car out of view from her house or Weiss's. It took all her control to focus on what was in front of her instead of constantly staring at the rearview mirror's reflection of Weiss's home.

She got out of the car and jogged quickly back to the open door of her house, swearing slightly at her silly decision not to waste time putting on shoes. Barefoot was okay when you were just walking to the end of the driveway to get the mail, but it wasn't so much fun when you had to run full out down the street.

After making it inside, she leaned up against the wall to take a small breather and rub the balls of her feet. A knock on the door snapped her out of her break.

"Syd? It's me."

"I'm running late," she said, hoping to god that he hadn't seen her running around like a madwoman outside seconds earlier. She opened the door, and her heart jumped slightly at his leisurely smile. He hadn't seen her.

"You are running late," Weiss said with a laugh. "Or were you planning on showing up at headquarters wearing your jammies?"

She just gave a quick glare before running back to the bedroom to get dressed. As she threw on a pair of black paints and a sweater, Weiss called out, "So where have you been this weekend?"

"What do you mean?" she called. She hoped her tone sound convincingly clueless to him.

"I mean, you haven't been here. I would have seen you at least once or twice. So where did you run off to?"

She slid her glasses on while entering the living room. "That's none of your business."

"I didn't say it was any of my business. I just said that I wanted to know."

"I went somewhere I felt safe, somewhere where I could think. Let's just leave it at that." She grabbed her briefcase and cell phone and was walking out the door before he could respond. "Besides, you don't want to know."

"Oh, I think I do," Weiss said, poking her lightly in the ribs as they walked side by side to his truck.

"I'm not telling," she teased, keeping with the light-hearted tone their conversation had begun to take.

The drive downtown after that was mostly in silence, although there was some polite conversation. Weiss didn't want to pry into something she obviously wasn't willing to discuss quite yet, and Sydney didn't even know how to explain that, at the first sign of turmoil, she went running straight into the arms of the one man all of her friends hated.

When they got out of the car in the parking garage, Weiss finally chanced another question. "Did you find whatever you were looking for when you disappeared?"

He was happy to see a genuine smile on her face. "Yeah, I really did."

Sydney knew that she should wipe the smile off her face, that it would only cause Eric to have more questions about her whereabouts, but she just couldn't find the determination to go through with it. Her weekend had been a complete and total break from the hardships she had been facing for years while she worked with the CIA. Sark had somehow managed to single-handedly begin to heal years of damage to her psyche.

The smile did get wiped off of her face the second she set foot into the rotunda and remembered the impending doom of facing the men who had caused her breakdown. She had almost made it halfway to her desk when she was cut off.

. "Syd," Vaughn said, stepping right into her path. "We need to talk."

She wanted to refuse and tell him exactly where he could go, but she knew that solution would not solve anything really. It wasn't until that exact moment that she realized the full extent to which he had hurt her. As a rule, she kept a clear, calm head when someone caused her pain. With Vaughn, she couldn't find that control anywhere.

"You know we have to speak sometime," he added when she failed to answer him right away.

"All right. But make it quick. I have to meet with Dixon and my father, and I don't want to blow the chance of catching them while they're both unoccupied."

Vaughn grabbed her arm lightly and directed her into a semi-secluded corner. He held her keys out to her. "I thought you might want these."

"Thank you." She grasped the keys roughly in her hands. "I wasn't looking forward to bumming rides off of Weiss for the rest of my life."

"It's not like you never would have been over my apartment again," Vaughn corrected.

Sydney crossed her arms in front of her. "That remains to be seen."

"Come on, Syd. You can't still be mad."

"No, I'm not mad." She wanted to laugh in his face when she saw him relax slight. If this were a normal situation, she would have felt horrible. "I'm furious. How could you tell me to never come back?"

"I was angry and frustrated. You just told me that you loved another man."

"At the time, I didn't though," she insisted. After she said it, she hoped he didn't notice the change of heart she was insinuating. It was too early to try to define what she had with Sark.

"I realize that now. It was stupid of me to react that way."

"Kicking me out of your life completely is probably the biggest mistake you've ever made, and that's saying a lot." She knew that the unspoken dig at his failure of a marriage was below the belt, but right now she didn't have any of her normal control.

"Lauren's in the past, Sydney."

"She was never in the past. You and I never really talked about her. I forgave you long ago for giving up on our love during the time I was missing. I might not have done the same in your place, but it wasn't out of the question for you to move on." She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. "But you never explained why you refused to believe me when I distrusted her. I wasn't an unreasonable person. I would have believed you knew me well enough to take my mistrust of Lauren slightly into consideration."

"She was my wife."

"A wife who happened to be biding her time until she was given the order to kill you."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"And therein lies our problem. We don't talk about the hard parts of life anymore. God knows that most of our time is spent dealing with the worst of life." She threw her hands up as the frustration that had been welling up inside her got to be too much. "It's like you know how tough things have been for me and you want to sugarcoat them."

"I don't want you to be hurt anymore."

"But you didn't feel bad about kicking me out of your home and telling me not to come back just because I had a Freudian slip?"

"I overreacted."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's all you have to say? You overreacted?"

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You may be right. That night ranks up there on my list of the worst mistakes I've made."

"I would have thought it might have taken you a little longer to come to that conclusion. You were never one to admit your wrongs right from the start." In the back of her mind, she wondered how many indirect references to Lauren it would take to make him lash out at her.

Vaughn sighed lightly and reached out to grab her hand. He looked openly hurt as she pulled her hand well out of his reach. "I was worried about you, Sydney. I was going to just let you have some time by yourself at your home for the weekend. Weiss almost didn't have the heart to tell me that you never came home, but he did eventually."

She chose her words carefully as she got a feeling that the conversation was about to take a turn in a different direction. "I'm glad that you were worried about me. You were wrong to kick me out of your home."

"You disappeared completely after you left my house Friday night. No one had any idea where you went. I thought you might be lost to me for another two years,"

"I'm sorry that you had to deal with the possibility of that," she said candidly. Her tone changed quickly, though. "If I had disappeared for another two years, would you have actually waited for me this time?"

"I learned my lesson."

"And so did I," she said determinately. "I wouldn't have come running back to you this time."

Vaughn suddenly realized that he was losing control of the conversation. "Where did you go, Syd, since you weren't at home this whole weekend?"

"I went somewhere I felt safe, somewhere I felt protected. You know, for a while there, I thought everyone had abandoned me. It turns out when I really needed it, there was someone I can rely on."

"Who?" he prodded.

"You're in no position to demand that information."

"I have to know."

"I'm not going to tell you."

"If we're gong to work through this, we need to start being honest."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you. Honestly is important now when it comes down to me telling the truth, right?" She rolled her eyes. "I think I'm done talking with you right now."

He grabbed her arm roughly. "We are far from done," he hissed.

Not thinking, she jammed the base of her palm up and connected with his chin. It wasn't a huge surprise when he fell to the floor. That move had saved her from being captured many times. She knew how effective it could be. "We are done in more ways than one."

Sydney walked away from the man she once loved without a backward glance.

As she sat down at her desk, she realized that it might be a little too early to talk to her father and Dixon. The wounds from her "discussion" with Vaughn were a little too fresh, and she was now horribly on edge. Plus, she still wasn't sure she wanted to dissect what exactly was going on between her and Sark. When the day came that she spoke to the two authority figures in her life, she wanted to be able to define her relationship and believe strongly in what it was.


	10. Another Memory

Weiss turned to Sydney as they sat in Vaughn's driveway. He had done her a favor and left work half an hour early so that she wouldn't have to see Vaughn when she picked up her car. This little argument might be pulling him in two directions at once, but that didn't mean he couldn't see how much Sydney was hurting inside.

"Are you going home now?" he asked to break the silence.

"I don't know," she said honestly, staring at her lone car in the driveway. "I still don't want to be alone."

"You can come over to my house. Even spend the night." He laughed. "I'll make sure you're not late for work in the morning."

"I would love to have you cheer me up, Weiss. But I don't think you're in the position to do that right now."

"Hey! I'm insulted."

His outburst got its intended response as she grinned. "I just mean that you care too much for both Vaughn and I. I'm at the stage where I just wanted to bitch and complain about what he did to me, and I want the person I'm with to agree with me every step of the way. You can't do that."

"No, I can't."

Sydney opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. Weiss shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway, pausing as he reached the street to roll down the window. "Will you tell me who can?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. I promise when the time is right."

"This is starting to get very shady, Sydney. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were sleeping with the enemy or something ridiculous like that."

Her heart stopped for a second until she realized that he was kidding. "Very funny. I'll see you tomorrow, Weiss."

"Bright and early," he insisted.

"I won't be late. Now get out of here."

Sydney watched the car until it turned right and left her field of vision. It was a good three minutes before she made a move to get in her car. She had to make sure that Weiss hadn't circled the block intent on following her to wherever she ended up. "Once a spy, always a spy."

She unlocked her car and slid in. There was enough time wasted in talking with Weiss. She wanted to get as far from this house and neighborhood as she could. It was causing her too much pain still to hang around dredging up old memories she didn't want at the moment. Plus, there was quite a few things for her to think through on her drive, and she didn't want hurtful memories to intrude upon that little bit of peace.

First, there were these nagging memories that kept slamming into her at the most inopportune times. These were the memories she wanted to feel come upon her at any moment in the day. She wasn't hiding from them anymore.

She had done her best during her weekend with Sark to not let him see her falter as her vision clouded and pictures of events she didn't know happened fired at her. He hadn't even guessed that the things he had remembered with ease were just a handful of curveballs constantly being flung at her body. Her dreams at night and during the day were haunted with visions of her time with Sark and echoed with feelings of security and content.

The second thing at the front of her mind was the fact she still wasn't sure what to do with this sudden relationship with Sark that wasn't feeling so new. There was a history there that she hadn't factored in before, and that history was bringing about consequences she had not foreseen. Without a thought, he had seemingly replaced Vaughn in her life.

She had spent the afternoon trying to come up with justification for how her conversation with Vaughn had turned out. His bitterness was expected, but the harshness of his voice and the way he had grabbed her had her dumbfounded. Vaughn had never been physically or emotionally violent towards her before. She knew, in the back of her mind, he was just upset at the speed in which their relationship had soured.

If he had known how many times she had reached to pick up her cell phone and call Sark after they talked, he would have been twice as furious and three times as upset.

Each time her hand had gone to the phone, she had stopped herself. If someone at the Agency heard her talking to a wanted criminal, she was pretty sure she'd have more problems than just a few life-altering disagreements with the men that meant the most in her life. She had allowed herself to lie to her own self in saying that this was the main reason she kept from calling him.

The truth was she was scared. She was scared of what this new relationship would mean for her career and her personal life. However, what really scared her most was how bad she just wanted to hear his voice. She had a feeling that was all she needed to make it through the day.

Her head started to throb lightly all of the sudden as she made a left turn on her way back to her home, and she could feel her shoulders tense up. "Shit," she muttered as she pulled the car over to the side of the road quickly and flicked on the emergency flashers. Letting out a sigh, she leaned back into her seat and let the full impact of her memory come to her.

__

Sydney lay in a hotel bed. For the first time in a long while, she could feel the satisfaction of having nothing to worry about and no troublesome thoughts racing through her as she stared at the wall across from the bed. There was a slight wind blowing in from the open window, and she shivered slightly in delight.

She was the most comfortable that she had ever felt in her life.

She could feel an arm snake around her and pull her close. By instinct alone and the feel of his body on hers, she knew it was Sark.

"When did you get in?" she asked without turning. The warmth of his body against hers was familiar and reassuring. Things hadn't felt right while he had been gone.

"About two minutes ago."

"And you came right here?"

He nuzzled the back of her neck. "I've been thinking about you non-stop since I left. I almost got myself killed a hundred times because my head wasn't in the game."

She turned over to face him. "Maybe we should end this now then. We both know it's not safe."

He smirked. "When have we ever played it safe, love?"

Without another word, she ran her fingers lightly up his chest until they rested at his collar. He watched her in awe as she meticulously unbuttoned his shirt. "I missed you, too." She slid the shirt off his shoulders and hit his chest lightly with her fists. "You need to be careful when you're out there. I don't fancy having to sleep in a cold bed."

His eyes went wide as she rolled over until she was straddling his body. "Well, at least we can be certain the bed won't be cold tonight. Not with the way you're welcoming me back."

"Welcoming you home," she corrected without looking him in the eyes. "This is your home, you know."

"This is a hotel room in the Caribbean, Syd. You've been living in it for only two weeks. It's completely temporary, and yet you call it home."

She gave him a look. "You're being too literal again."  
  
"I know it's my home," he said, nudging her chin lightly with his hands so that she would have to look up. "My home is wherever I can find you."

"Being with you is my home, too."

"You don't mean that," he corrected. "You and I both know that if you had a chance, you would go running back into the CIA's waiting arms without hesitation or fear. That's where you belong."

She laid her head down on his chest. "I don't know where I belong anymore."

With a sigh, he rubbed her arms gently with the palms of his hand. He would miss the power of causing goosebumps to rise on her skin when she was gone. Because at the bottom of his heart, he knew that whatever they had would be forced to end someday. "I can't tell you the answer to that. All I can say is every day I spend with you I'm thankful that I've gotten that long."

"Why did you help me in the first place?" she asked.

He hesitated. That hesitation told her more than his words would. "I can't tell you that."

She slid off the bed and walked over to the window. "When are you going to tell me?" She turned back to face him and pulled down on the hem of her t-shirt in an unconscious show of nerves. "I mean, it's painfully obvious that you started this whole liaison for a reason. There was some benefit that you wanted to reap. You and I have been dancing around the subject for weeks now. I want to know what it is."

"What it was," he corrected while he stood up and slid his pants off. Now clothed only in his boxers, he took a seat on the bed and lay down with his hands tucked behind his head. It was a cocky stance but one that she had gotten used to seeing on him.

Sydney turned to face him. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"In the beginning, helping you was a strong benefit to what my endgame was. But that was in the beginning." He stopped and gave her a look of exasperation. "Would you come back to bed? I'm exhausted."

"If you're exhausted, why do you want me in bed so much?" she teased.

"I'm not that tired," he said giving her a meaningful look. It was the gleam in his eyes when he said he wanted her that made her never want to leave his side.

She smirked at him but found herself making her way over to the bed. "Don't think that you can seduce your way out of this conversation."

He winked at her. "Scout's honor. I won't try to seduce you until this conversation has ended in a way that I deem satisfactory."

She laid her head down on his chest again, letting out a big sigh. "Oh, you woo me with your words, Julian Lazarey."

"So where were we?" he asked as he played with her hair lightly.

"For starters, you just promised me two seconds ago that you wouldn't seduce me, Mr. Grabby Hands." She playfully slapped the hand that had slowly snuck its way down to her backside. "I was about to ask you if in the beginning, helping me was such a benefit to you, what is it now?"

"Helping you is the only thing that keeps me from losing it. I've been standing in the shadows, making sure that you become a stronger, more competent agent from this. It hasn't been easy, Syd. I know you've been through a lot of pain." He took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't press him too hard to speak about things that he knew she wouldn't really want to hear. "Really, I'm exactly the person you always thought I was."

"I don't understand." She propped herself up on one elbow and looked into his eyes.

"I'm a monster."

"No, you're not. You've shown that you're a good person by all the things you've done for me in the past eighteen months. You're not a monster, and you never really were."

"Oh, I think I am. I've seen how much pain and torture you've been subjected to in working with the Covenant. Your whole life has been destroyed because of something I convinced you to do. I've made it seem to you like I've been out for your best interests this whole time. You think that I'm your personal knight in shining armor, here to protect you from all the nasty aftereffects of the work you're doing and make sure that you leave here without changing who you are. But when push comes to shove, I'm not even man enough to do the one thing you need. If I could erase this all, and I probably could if I wanted to, I wouldn't. I'm not brave enough to let you go."

She just stared at him in shock.

"When it comes down to it, it's not my desire to be on top that would keep me from letting you go. It's my own selfish nature. I don't want to let you go." He took her hand in his and looked her straight in the eyes. "I refuse to let you go because I love you, Sydney."

Her eyes welled up with tears. He had never said those words to her before and meant it like the way he meant it at this very moment.

"Which is why I'm going to let you go. If you want, you can walk out of this hotel right now and back to the CIA. I can deal with the Covenant. You'll have a perfect excuse about how you got your memories back all of the sudden. I can do at least that for you."

"You would let me walk out just like that?"

"If that was what you wanted, absolutely."

She kissed him lightly on his forehead, working her way until her lips touched his gently. "Well, it's good news for you that I don't want that."

"You don't?"

"No. If I had to go back to the CIA, I think I would be miserable. It's no longer the place I want to be."

"And you expect me to believe that working for the Covenant is where you want to be instead."

She laughed lightly, trying to cover up the small feelings of guilt that were spring up into her mind. Her ties with the CIA were not as far in the past as Sark would have liked to believe. She had been reporting to them for the past three months without anyone knowing in an effort to destroy the Covenant from the inside before they gathered up too much power.

It was this secret she had that made her words seem both completely true and false at the same time. The point she was working towards however wasn't a lie in any sense of the word. It may, in fact, be the first true thing she has wanted to say in years.

She pushed the guilt completely out of her mind and focused on the man lying beside her in the bed. "Working for the Covenant is not exactly my idea of an ideal job. But that's what it has turned out to be. You see I had never met someone who got me like you do. You understand why I've given up everything to be here today, and you aren't judgmental of any decision I've made to bring me to this point. It's hard to find that."

He didn't say anything in response because he honestly didn't know how to respond to what she was saying.

"God help me, Julian. I think I love you, too."

He smiled at her and pulled his body on top of her. "You do realize that we could be the death of each other."

Her eyes flashed with a wicked gleam. "Now that our conversation has ended quite satisfactorily, I think you and I should see just how much of each other we can take."

Sydney shook her head and took a deep breath. These memories were really hard to digest. It was like she was watching a movie or reading a book. The images were so foreign to her, but she found herself inherently relating to them. She understood that it was her in these visions. What she did in them felt natural.

She let that natural feeling take control as she watched first Weiss's house and then her own pass by the window in a blur. It wasn't surprising at all to see that Sark's car was no longer parked where she had hid it that morning. He wouldn't leave a small detail like that to be cleaned up at another time. He prided himself on his thoroughness.

It had been the truth when she told Weiss that she didn't want to be alone. At this point, Returning to her house would have almost made her feel like she was hiding from her problems.

As she paused at a stop sign, she found it slightly freeing to let her emotions take over her rational mind for once. She let her heart control her as she pushed the gas pedal to the floor and turned onto a road she had visualized in her head a thousand times that day already. It didn't surprise her one bit to find herself pulling into Sark's driveway a few minutes later.

By the time she had gotten out of the car and walked up to the front door, he was there, leaning against the doorframe. He looked both at ease and completely on edge at the same time.

"You're home," she said simply. "I wasn't sure if you would be gone on business by now."

He laughed. "Silly, silly Sydney. Do you honestly think I'd leave when I could see just how much you needed me to be around?"

She took the hand he had extended and let him lead her into his home. "Do you want to know what I realized on my way over here?"

"What?" he said, shutting and locking the door behind her. He couldn't help but stare out the window for a few seconds to make sure that no one had been watching them.

"Look at me."

It was her tone more than her command that made him turn and look at her.

"I was very confused about what you and I were as recent as an hour ago. You've known this, and for some reason that escapes me, you've actually been patient with me. Even when I told you that I was having trouble dealing with these new memories pressuring themselves into my head, you didn't get angry."

"I'd say I'm making progress," he joked. "Listen, Syd. You don't have to worry about that. I understand that it's going to take you time to fully deal with the full story of where you were for two years. For whatever reason, I think the memory erasing process was a little more traumatic for you than I."

"That could be because when the erasing took place you were a willing participant while I was not."

He shook his head and chuckled lightly. "Somehow, I knew when I made that hard decision to erase both our memories, you would find some way to hold it against me."

"The difference in trauma is our real problem, I think. However, I did have a moment of clarity on my drive over here." She walked over to where he stood in front of the door and stroked his cheek lightly. "I loved you with my whole heart once. What I realized on my way here was that I don't think I should be talking about that in the past tense."

"What are you saying?" Sark asked hesitantly.

"I didn't love you once." She smiled at him. "I love you now."

He stared down at her. "I'm glad you came to me today."

"Me, too," she said, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the couch. "Okay, what do you want to do tonight?"

"I don't care," he said, sitting down and pulling her close. "I'm just happy to have you here."

After ten seconds of silence, she looked up at him. "So, how long do you think we can go without bickering?"


	11. Missing Parts

"Where have you been all week?" Jack Bristow asked his daughter as he glanced at the work she was doing over her shoulder.

"I've been here every day, choosing not to talk with you," Sydney said, not even rewarding him a glance up.

"I mean, where have you been going after work? I know that you haven't spent a night in your home, and you haven't been at any of your friends. So, where have you been?"

She finally looked up at him with a glare on her face. "Have you been having me followed? You know, most fathers would just trust their children to tell them if there's something going on that they need to know. They don't hire men to compile a folder of information on their offspring."

Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at his daughter seriously. "You're being a little to obvious to necessitate hiring someone to tail you. Weiss, Vaughn, even Marshal is upset because you're holding things back from them. Dixon and myself are both concerned for you."

"Your concern is duly noted. Now, would you excuse me? I have work to do so that I can get out of her on time."

"But where will you be going once you leave?" Jack pressed. "I'm not going to relent until you tell me. Most daughters tell their fathers when they make life-altering decisions."

"You no longer have the right to know." She took a deep breath, accepting that it might be time to let her father know what she was feeling. "What you and Dixon said to me really hurt. That, coupled with the fight I had with Vaughn, practically forced me into having an emotional breakdown. I'm not saying this so that you will feel guilty or angry in any way."

"I don't feel guilty."

"Of course you don't. That's a whole other problem that you and I have. I'm not dealing with it right now." She stood up and grabbed her jacket. "In case you were wondering, I do have somewhere to go where I don't have to keep up this constant guard of my emotions. And that's where I've been. When you give me a little respect, I might let you know where that is."

Jack watched in awe as his daughter walked away from him. It was starting to worry him how much she had begun to act like her mother. "If Irina knew, she would be so proud," he muttered.

* * *

Sydney swore to herself as she pulled into the driveway of her house. She had wanted to prepare a little more before confronting her father. Her emotions always had a bad habit of taking control of her mouth and body when she was dealing with her father. If there was one time she didn't want that to happen, it was when she confronted her father about his lack of respect.

In the end, she figured she had brought up the main points she had wanted to make without too much emotion getting into the way. She wanted her father to be forced to think about the way he was treating her. It was time that he had to do the thinking and contemplating, not her.

Sighing, she unlocked her front door and stepped inside. It was the first time she had gone straight home after work in a week. She had spent every evening and night at Sark's home, soaking in the comfort that he was willingly offering to her. For herself more than anything else, she wanted to show she had the strength to get through a night without him by her side.

Since the night she told Sark she was in love with him, they hadn't discussed Vaughn or her current life upheaval. They existed almost as if they were in a bubble, secluded from the outside world. It was a happy pretend world that she knew she couldn't let herself live in for too long. Otherwise, it would hurt too much when she was forced to leave it, hence her determination to keep herself away from him, at least partially.

It was part of who she was, this need to prove that she wasn't dependent on anyone. Her relationship with Sark had escalated so quickly that she couldn't put the normal distance on it that she did in most other relationships. It had hit her full on, and she wasn't prepared for it.

"So, here I am, suffering," she scolded as she slipped off her shoes and entered her bedroom.

In the back of her head, she was so mad at herself for needing to prove this. She had always been labeled as the strong one when she was growing up. There was never once a time that she cried because all the other little girls had mothers and fathers who came to their ballet recitals and tee ball games. She hadn't let the fact that she didn't go to her senior prom because her father was never around to lend her money to buy a dress phase her for a minute.

"Bobby Kincaid spiked the punch, and everyone had to be evacuated anyway," she muttered, slipping into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top.

She flopped herself down onto her bed and pulled her briefcase onto her lap. There were quite a few files she still needed to go through concerning the whole fiasco in Palermo and the supposed death of Lauren Reed. The exact events of that night weren't clear to anyone.

The first thing she decided to look through is the file explaining why Lauren's body was never recovered from the shaft it fell into. The CIA blamed it on the uncooperative nature of the Italian government and the fact that the shaft was mysteriously filled with water at the bottom. Lauren's body was not on the surface of the standing water, and the government of Palermo refused to let the US government send in any sort of team to pump the water out.

"Smells like government conspiracy." Sydney shook her head and pushed that file to the side. It was upsetting to know that there was still a possibility that one day Lauren may pop up to mess with her life once more. She knew that Lauren never really cared for her husband so revenge for Sydney and Vaughn's love for one another wouldn't send Lauren back into her life. It would be the pure fact that Sydney screwed with each and every one of her plans that would make her out for blood.

She was not looking forward to that day.

The next file dealt with Vaughn and his agenda for revenge that almost killed him multiple times. When she had returned to the States with him earlier that year, he had faced the consequences for what he had sacrificed to take down Lauren.

Sydney didn't hesitate to push this file aside. Now was not the time to dwell on any aspect of Vaughn. He had tried to talk with her every day at the CIA facility, but she had stayed true to her word in saying that their conversation was over.

In the back of her mind, she knew there would be a day soon where she wouldn't mind talking with him. She didn't hate him at all. In her first few years working with the real CIA, he had been her cornerstone. They would always be friends, no matter what happened.

With a small sigh of frustration, she pushed her work to the side. This was not what she wanted to be doing. What she wanted to be doing was watching a movie curled up on Sark's couch with his arms around her.

"Stop thinking about him," she screamed in partially in frustration and partially in desperation.

She was suddenly reminded of the days before she had taken SD-6 down. What she was going through right at this moment was so similar to what she had been going through then. In fact, it was the exact same thing minus an innate desire to ruin the plans of an evil man in charge of an evil organization that was posing as the real thing.

"Damnit," she screamed.

Now that she had placed the feeling, she didn't like it at all. She, Sydney Bristow, was sexually frustrated by Julian Lazarey, the one man who she couldn't say one kind word about one month earlier.

They had been dancing around the issue all week long. She could remember the many times in her two missing years that she had been intimate with Sark, and his continual hinting would make it seem like he remembered, too. However, both of them seemed hesitant to go back to that high level of closeness they had once relished.

The closest they had come to dealing with this buzzing energy between them was a few nights earlier. Sydney had slipped into Sark's home when he had seemingly been out on business. She had let herself into the bathroom and was taking a shower when he finally came home.

Not surprisingly, it didn't occur to him that the noises coming from the bathroom were probably Sydney until he had busted the door open and come charging in, gun in hand.

Sydney had just stared at him in shock through the clear shower door while his expression changed from seriousness to surprise to appreciation and finally to a look that made her shake in excitement. That was the moment that she realized it must have been killing him, not to touch her and be with her in every sense of the word.

That was also the moment that she realized she wanted to be in that close place with him, too.

She shook her head at the images that were suddenly flashing through her head. They were distant memories of what it had felt like to be in bed with a man like Sark, and she didn't want to dwell on them. At least she didn't want to dwell on them when he was not there to help her work out her frustration in the way her body was wanting.

"Okay," she said, standing up and clasping her hands together. "Time to do something to calm yourself down, Syd."

The first thing that popped into her head was physically attacking something. As good at that sounded at the moment, she really didn't have anything destructible just lying around.

So, she opted for her other method of expending energy fast. Grabbing her tennis shoes off the floor, she slipped them on.

The air outside her home was brisk and cooled down her thoughts almost immediately. With a small grin to herself, she began running around the block. She was going to work out some of the problems in her life if it killed her during the next few blocks.

Purposely turning at the first corner she encountered, she made sure that she would not unconsciously end up on Sark's doorsteps. That would not help her reason out her thoughts.

First and foremost in her mind was the problem of where Sark fit in to her life. She now knew that she had a love for him in her heart that rivaled, if not exceeded, what she once felt for Vaughn. He definitely had a place in her life, but she still wasn't sure of where exactly that was.

If it were up to her, she would walk straight into the CIA and tell them that she was going to be spending a lot of her free time with Sark, no matter what they said. But she was pretty sure that option led to her losing her job or being banned from the country. The CIA was always a little too melodramatic.

What really hurt was that was what she wanted to do. Things would be so much easier if she could forget that their relationship was forbidden and just surrender to it fully.

"Okay. We're making headway." She mumbled to herself, making another left turn. "Sark will be having a role in my life. I just have to decide how much I'm willing to give up to make that happen."

She now knew that she was once ready to leave her whole life in Los Angeles behind for him. There was so many times in her two years away from the CIA that she had doubted where her home was, if it was in L.A. or if it was with Sark. She was now in the same position, only both options were in L.A.

Turning around so that she could head back home, she moved on to another issue. Her father and Dixon wouldn't accept anything she told them, and Vaughn would back them up fully. She had to figure out a way to cut them out of her decision making process without cutting them out of her life completely. She loved all three men. That would never change.

Passed on past experience, Sydney hoped that showing them Sark was what she really wanted would be enough. She had made crazy decisions in the past without much explanation, and they had eventually saw the logic in them. It could happen again.  
  
"And hell is going to freeze over," she said with a laugh.

Dixon would be the easiest one to concur. He usually went along with her crazy plans without much protest because he loved her so much. When she took down SD-6, they had almost lost their closeness, and she didn't think either one of them would chance that again.

Vaughn should only be moderately hard to convince if she could get past his heart with she had single-handedly squashed. With good reason, for sure, but all the same she knew she had hurt him almost as much as he had hurt her. He would be livid for the first few weeks, but then he'd come around in what he would assume was proof that he trusted her. He would be determined to prove the accusations she made about him wrong, and that would be her opening to use.

Her father would probably never come around.

She growled to herself in frustration as she pounded up her front steps and unlocked the door. After slamming it behind herself and relocking it, she kicked off her shoes and flung herself on the couch. The run hadn't helped that much except to make her realize that her problems were a lot deeper than whether she should get intimate with Julian Sark again.

Sydney was almost on the verge of sleep when she heard a floorboard creak. She fought her automatic reaction to switch into fight mode and instead, stayed motionless on the couch. Hopefully, it was just the house settling. She didn't feel like killing anyone tonight.

When she heard a very familiar chuckle, she let herself relax. "I thought we were supposed to stay away from one another, Julian."

Sark sat down on the couch next to her and pulled her feet into his lap. "Not exactly. You were supposed to stay away from me. There was no rule about me staying away from you."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "If anyone stops by my house, they will shoot you on sight."

"A chance I'm willing to take." He touched her face lightly. "I missed you."

"We've only been apart two hours longer than normal."

"It felt like an eternity, though, didn't it?"

"Yes," she said, smiling. She flung herself into his arms. "We need to figure this out soon before it kills us both."

"We'll come up with something," he said reassuringly, settling her into his lap.

"You do know we're going to meet up in the field one of these days. What if I'm put in the situation where I have to shoot you?"

"Sydney, first off, we'll deal with that when it actually happens." He squeezed her hand. "And secondly, I don't think we're working for different ideals any longer. You and I are both different people then we were before both of us disappeared from the face of the earth for two years. We've changed each other."

"So, you wouldn't make me shoot you?"

"Not unless you wanted to."

"But what if it compromised my job?"

"That would be a decision you would have to make." He grinned at her. "But I promise you, if you shot me, I wouldn't stay mad for long. At least as long as it wasn't fatal."

They sat in each other's arms without saying a word for a long time. Sydney knew that they were both thinking about the same thing, but neither one of them wanted to breech the topic first. There was another elephant in the room, and this time it wasn't Michael Vaughn.

"What are we playing at?" she finally asked.

"What do you mean?" He looked genuinely puzzled. She would have laughed if she weren't sure that it was all an act.

"Exactly. You and I are both wondering about the same thing, but we both pretend like we're not."

"It's a hard topic to speak about, Syd. I mean, how do you discuss whether or not you're ready to take the relationship you cherish so much to a level that's completely familiar and completely foreign at the exact same time?"

Sydney looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eye. "I want to…" Her voice trailed off. She didn't think he could do this.

Sark pushed her off his lap gently. "God knows, Sydney, all I think about day in and day out is making love to you. It's been that way since I first starting getting my memories back. I know what heaven feels like now, and I miss it desperately."

"Me, too," she said, surprised and a little shocked at his candidness.

"So what's stopping us?"

"Me," she said softly. "I'm the one thing holding us back."

He looked at her forcefully. "I will not push myself on you physically, Sydney. You have to believe that."

"That's not what I was implying." She took a deep breath. "I just mean, that you've always been such a free person. You've chosen where your loyalties are, and you've decided who you love."

He held up his hand to stop her. "I've always admired the fact that you never found yourself in the positions that I did. You've always known that you were one of the good guys. I've spent over half my life wondering if what I was doing really mattered and if I was even doing any good for anyone."

"You weren't," she said shortly.

"I know."

They returned to silence for a moment. "Let's just go to sleep," Sark said, standing up. "We're both exhausted with all this damn thinking."

She nodded and let him lead her into her bedroom, though in the back of her mind she did notice the fact that he seemed to know exactly where that room was. That was a question for a later time when she wasn't about to pass out.

"Thank you for coming," she said as he tucked her in.

"I could feel that you needed me."

She smiled in her half-sleep. "I know you don't believe in that telepathy, emotional connection mumbo jumbo."

"Damn right." He settled himself in next to her. "Like I said before, I just missed you. It's as simple as that."


	12. In the Line of Duty

Sydney turned over lightly to stare at the man sleeping next to her. The only thing she could think of was how happy she was that she had been incredibly aloof yet still conversational at work during the week. It pretty much secured the fact that no one would feel up to checking on her. Which allowed her to experience probably one of the greatest nights of her life.

"Good morning," Sark said, squinting at her. "How'd you sleep?"

"A lot better than I would have if you hadn't acted on your weakness."

"I don't consider you a weakness," he said, sitting up and scratching his head still half asleep. "You're a strength."

"God you've gotten sappy," she said, punching him lightly in the arm. "Where the hell is the complete bastard I fell in love with?"

"Oh, he's in here somewhere," Sark said smiling at her. "Do you want me to find him?"

"Don't bother. I don't have the time to deal with his cockiness at the moment." She got up off the bed and grabbed her robe off the ground. "I've got to get ready for a mission."

"Where is the Central Intelligence Agency sending you this time?"

She popped her head out from the bathroom. "I can't tell you that. National security and all that."

"Right. Are you going to miss me?"

"Not as much as you'll miss me apparently."

Sark stood up and slipped on the clothes he had worn the day before. "It's okay. I have some business to attend to anyway. Not having you around to distract me should be a good thing." He paused as he noticed something hanging in her closet. "Is that my blue shirt?"

"Yeah, I stole it," Sydney called from behind the bathroom door.

"You admit to thievery rather easily, Bristow."

"I'm proud of my conquests." She opened up the door and wiggled her eyebrows at him. "I bet you can relate to that, Lazarey."

"What do you take me as? A common whore who delights in creating notches on my bedpost?"

"If the label fits, wear it." She turned to bathroom light off and walked back into the room. "Now get out. I have to prep for my mission. I was supposed to do it last night, but you distracted me."

"You're kicking me out. Now I really do feel like a whore." Sark began to make his way to the front door. "Will I see you when you get back?"

"Of course. Now go."

He gave her a quick peck on the lips and shut the door behind himself. Sydney sighed and just stood still for a moment before going about her morning routine.

* * *

Two hours stuck on a small airplane in silence was becoming just too much for her. "Vaughn, we need to talk."

Vaughn looked up from the novel he had been reading. "You're ready to talk to me now? Because I thought we might still be going through the ignoring stage. Sometimes these fights progress so quickly I can't keep track of them."

"I deserved that," she admitted. "But you and I are partners, and we need to do something if we don't want that to change."

"You know what I want, Syd."

"I do. But that's not what I want anymore." She took a deep breath and moved to still in the seat beside Vaughn. "I just want you to know that I've thought it over, and I want to apologize. I don't think any of this was your fault."

"You don't?" His surprise didn't throw her. She knew he hadn't been expecting her to admit that she was wrong. That could be used to her advantage.

"No. I was mad at the way you kicked me out of your home, and I think that was justified. But I really think that the downfall of our relationship can be attributed to both your ex-wife and to me. Lauren was the person who kept me from accepting that my missing two years had changed me. I wanted to come back to my life and just be the same person. But I couldn't."

"What went on during your two years to change you so much? I mean, you've had to do tough things in the line of duty with the CIA before. What was so different this time?"

She bit her bottom lip in a display of nerves. "There was someone I was with during my missing time, and he was the one that changed me. In retrospect, I should have known it was coming. He was the one real thing I had during those two years."

"Simon Walker?" he asked. It threw her off. He wasn't connecting the words she was saying with her previous mention of her feelings for Sark.

"No. Simon Walker was just a momentary distraction to me. Someone I could use to prove that I was still good at deceiving people. He was expendable."

Vaughn rubbed his face. "When you talk like it, it's obvious you've changed a lot."

"I have. I know you want to give us a second chance." She paused. "Or are we on our third chance?"

"I think it might be four, but yeah, that's what I want. But like you said, it's not what you want."

She nodded, glad that he was rational enough to understand what she had been trying to tell him. "I can't have a relationship with you right now because I still have feelings for the man I was talking about. I fell in love with him when I was missing, and I still do love him."

"Who is he? You owe me that much, Syd."

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You're acting strange.

"I already know him, don't I?"

Sydney didn't answer. She just stared at him in shock. "I told you I loved Sark. We had this conversation the night you kicked me out of your home."

His face went white. "I… why didn't I remember that?"

"I don't know." She placed her hand on top of his. "Did something happen to you?"

"It must be the stress. I have no idea why I blocked that out."

"I wouldn't attribute it all to stress. I speak from experience when I saw memory loss is not just black and white. You should have it checked out when we get back from our mission. It could be that something happened to you on a mission."

He nodded and withdrew his hand from below hers. "So, it's Sark you love, huh?"

For a second there, she had felt the tone of the conversation go to a familiar level. Now it was back to the strained tone at which it started. "The man is not important. What is important is me."

"I understand what you're saying, but it's not going to make me stop loving you. You criticized me for giving up on your love too fast once. I won't make that mistake again."

"That's your choice. I'm sorry to be putting through the same emotions that your marriage to Lauren caused in me."

"It's all right. Just like then, you and I will just work through it. We're partners, Sydney. That will never change. We work well together."

She smiled at him and moved back into her first seat on the plane. "So, what do you think about this mission?"

"I'm just happy that it's in Canada, and we don't have to fly halfway across the world."

The CIA had received intel that there was a corporation specializing in cryogenic technologies in Quebec who happened to be working on a project involving the "borrowing" of the DNA of certain important political leaders. The frozen genetic material could potentially be formed together to provide an answer to the Rambaldi prophecy Sydney had thought she thwarted one year previously.

Dixon had assigned her and Vaughn to pose as college professors interested in studying the CyroTech facilities for their thesis research on new developments in the cryogenic field. While in the facility, they would hack into the mainframe network to get a list of the potential "donors" of genetic material.

Sydney turned back to Vaughn. "Do you think CyroTech has their hand in Rambaldi?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if someone they managed to get a sample of the genetic material you hit in Gratz."

"The only problem to that is they can't do anything with it unless they have my genetic material, too. There's no way they could do that without me knowing."

"They would have to send someone to infiltrate your life so that you would let your guard down. Has anyone knew come into your life recently?"

She knew that he was hinting at Sark, even though he didn't know the man she loved was the CIA's number one adversary. For a moment, she let herself contemplate the possibility that getting on her good side might be the one reason Sark had reentered her life so suddenly. She quickly dismissed that option. There was no way, with all the memories she was recalling, that he would have an ulterior motive as sick and twisted as that. When he told her he loved her, she believed him.

"No," she said, answering Vaughn's question. "And I don't think any of the people I trust would be betraying me."

"I wasn't insinuating that."

"I know. I was just saying." Sydney felt a shift in altitude. "We're landing."

Vaughn grabbed a pair of glasses out of his pocket and slipped them on. "We should get ready to go."

* * *

Vaughn and Sydney strolled into the front library of CyroTech Incorporated, pausing for a moment to tell the receptionist that they had been authorized to have a look around the facilities. She offered to find them a guide, but Sydney quickly refused, saying that it would interfere with their impartial and objective methods.

As soon as she and Vaughn were positive that no one was paying much attention, they slipped into the first office they could find.

"Marshall," Sydney said into her comm. "We're connected to the system."

"Hold on," Marshall said on the other half of the line. "Okay, Mountaineer, I'm ready to download."

Sydney pulled a small metal box out of her purse and placed it on top of the computer's hard drive. She clicked a button, and a green light turned on. "The device is on. How long should this take?"

Marshall didn't answer her at first. When he did, she wished he had stayed silent. "A lot longer than we planned. It's not working."

"What do you mean it's not working?" Vaughn demanded.

"There must be a short in the downloader or the system might have protected firewalls I didn't foresee. For whatever reason, I'm not receiving the list."

"What do we do?" Sydney asked, cutting to the chase.

"You're going to have to download it completely into the device I gave you and physically bring it back to base, Mountaineer."

"Have an officially sanctioned plane meet us at the airport, then. We're going to need a little more security." Vaughn clicked on a few items on the monitor, and the download began. "This is not going to be easy on us."

When the device beeped to signal their work was complete, Sydney heard a commotion in the hall. "I think we might have taken too long," she said, drawing her gun out of her purse. She peeked into the hallway and saw a crowd of people shuffling their way in the opposite direction of the office she was currently standing in. "They're trying to evacuate people away from our location. Something tells me that we're not dealing with the normal Covenant or K Directorate operatives."

"K Directorate has been dissolved for years," Vaughn pointed out. He handed the box containing the downloaded material to Sydney.

"I know. But there must be an awfully large number of agents looking for employment because of it." Sydney checked the hallway again. "It's clear. Let's go."

She and Vaughn made it halfway down the hall before encountering any opposition. The pair of men they did encounter found themselves face down on the ground in lots of pain within seconds, thanks to Sydney.

"We should split up," she suggested. "CyroTech won't expect to have to search for two people separately, and they still probably have no idea why we infiltrated them."

Vaughn nodded. "I'll see you at the airport. Don't be too long."

"I won't," she said with a smile before running off in the opposite direction. She was so caught up in the wonderful feeling of finally being on the same level of understanding as Vaughn that she didn't know the man standing in front of her until she had run into him headfirst.

She looked up at him from her position on the floor. "What the hell are you doing here, Sark?"


	13. That Undefinable Someone

Sydney stared at her indefinable significant other in shock. She was not supposed to run into him headfirst during missions. It was against the rules. Sark reached out and grabbed her arm, lifting her onto her feet.

"I told you I had business to take care of," he said, pulling Sydney into a side hallway.

"But you didn't tell me your business involved CyroTech Incorporated."

"And you didn't tell me the CIA was sending you to Quebec. We both held information from one another, Sydney. It's a necessary component of our job."

"Why are you here?" she asked while she continued to scan the area for approaching adversaries. She needed some facts, and she needed them now.

"I think you know." He pulled her into a vacant room and out of any form of passerby traffic that could get them into trouble. "There's a list of names that I need to get. And I bet you already have it."

She nodded, unwilling to lie to him. However this situation resolved itself, it wouldn't be with him attacking her. They could trust that much. "This is like my worst nightmare."

"It's not that bad. I haven't even told you why I need it." He grasped her hand and stayed silent until she looked him in the eye. "You know I've been trying to recall my reasons for attaching myself to you emotionally. I blew my last good lead because you needed me, and I don't regret it. The thing is I have my suspicions to the reason why I so willing gave that lead up. One of them, the one that I believe the most, is I was trying to protect you."

She threw her arms up and looked around the room. "You call this protecting me?"

"Yes. The reason I came here today was I had it on good reason that CyroTech was getting dangerously close to a point I didn't want them to reach. They were going to come after you."

"How do you know that?"

"They have been working on a special project for the past year. Every single Rambaldi descendant that is currently known has been subjected to a series of tests to identify the base code of their genetics. CyroTech is trying to reconstruct Rambaldi's DNA from scratch." Sark pointed to her purse. "If you look at the list I know is hiding somewhere in that purse, you'll see that it's not of the world's political leaders. It's all of Rambaldi's descendents."

Sydney realized almost immediately that he was holding something back. "And?"

"And your sister."

"What does Nadia Santos have to do with Rambaldi's descendents?"

"We don't have time for this." Sark held up his hand before she began to argue that point. "Let me make a copy of that list while we're talking. That way I can explain and meet my objective at the same time."

She was almost shocked when she realized she hadn't hesitated a second. Maybe it was because she trusted he had her well-being first in his mind. Maybe she just understood that the information wasn't that highly secret and letting him have the list wouldn't cause a national emergency.

Whatever the reason, she handed over the downloader, and he withdrew a similar device from his pocket to start the copying process. She took a seat at a vacant desk and looked up at him. "I don't even want to know how you got your hands on hardware like that. While we're waiting for it to finish copying, I want you to tell me what my sister has to do with Rambaldi, and why it was the right decision to let you see it."

"We should have come up with the answer to the question of your sister a long time ago. It was actually simple. Let me start with asking you a question, darling. Who in your family is connected to Rambaldi?"

Under other circumstances, she would have yelled at him for beating around the bush. This time, she could sense that all this indirection was being used to make a point. "Well, obviously I'm connected, and my sister." She stopped talking for a moment. "I guess you could say that my mother is connected because the CIA and myself thought she was the woman in the prophecy for a while."

"Exactly. Your father is not involved with Rambaldi other than in terms of his work with the CIA. Arvin Sloane was only connected to Rambaldi in the form of a pawn. Rambaldi used him to show you, the woman in the prophecy, where her sister was located. It was no coincidence that Sloane chose to cross your father and recruit you into SD-6 without his knowledge."

"There are no coincidences when it comes to Rambaldi or my father," she said, alluding to the two men who had been pulling strings left and right throughout her life to make sure she went down one specific path, the path they wanted her to take and not the one she chose for herself.

"Sydney, I think your mother, and consequently you and your sister, are descendents of Rambaldi."

"No way," she said, refusing almost immediately to accept his blunt purpose. "There's no way. The CIA tested me when we first thought that I could be the woman in the prophecy. They said I had no connection to Rambaldi other than my mother's sick obsession for him."

"The CIA made a mistake. It wouldn't have been their first."

"So, you think that my name and Nadia's will be on that list?"

Sark looked at the screen, noting the progress of the copy. "Your mother's name will be on the list, too."

"What's the significance of this new development?"

"You and your sister are the only two confirmed descendents of Rambaldi. Every other name on the list is just a potential descendent. If CyroTech is planning on fulfilling their objectives, then they're going to start with you and Nadia."

"So, I'm in danger."

"Yes. You'll be in danger if that list stays here with CyroTech. This is why we both need a copy."

"I don't understand, Julian."

"You need to give the CIA your copy so that you can fulfill your mission. I wouldn't deny you that. However, when they realize the nature of the list, you'll probably never see or hear about it again. It'll be filed away somewhere deep in Project: Blackhole."

"How do you know about--" she cut herself off. "I don't even want to know."

"The copy you let me make, you and I can use it to get to the bottom of what's really happening."

Sydney decided that it was time to start thinking rationally about her situation. "How am I supposed to believe you when you say you're doing this for my good?"

Sark smiled and held his hand out to her. She hesitated for a moment but then slipped her hand into his. "Sydney, you and I both know that there will come a day when our objectives clash. We are on different sides of the law, at least for now."

"That's apparent every single time I realize that I can't tell any of my friends or family about our relationship."

"There will be a day when you can tell your friends about me. I don't think I'm that horrible of a person."

"You obviously haven't looked at yourself through the eyes of a CIA employee or an employee of any other country's government agencies. You kind of are a horrible person."

"I have my reasons."  
  
"And someday you'll tell me them?"

"Someday, I promise. For now, I want you to be sure to know that I won't be that horrible person everyone seems to think I am. At least until I get some more answers about our missing two years, you won't have to worry about me double crossing you or using you for my own purposes."

"You admit that you would use me once you've found the answers to your question," she hissed. 

He held up his hand to stop her before she really started yelling. "Okay, that definitely came out wrong."

"I would say so." A beep signaled the end of the copying process. Sydney stood up from her seat and walked over to grab her copy. "You are asking for a lot of trust from me."

Sark let out a deep breath. "I know that I'm asking a lot of you. No matter how much history we share, I know my past indiscretions will always be in your mind. But I hope you can trust that I love you. Since you came into my life, I haven't been able to do one thing right. I make mistakes I never would have made in the past. You throw me off."

"And you don't throw me off?" She teased while sliding the downloader back into her purse.

"I'm sure I do. That's one of the reasons we're so good together." He touched her cheek lightly. "Listen, love. Just trust me on this one. I might be doing things that are in direct conflict with your work at the CIA, but I would never, ever do anything that would put you in danger."

"I know," she said, leaning her head into his touch. "If there's one thing I'm certain about, it's that. Now you and I need to leave before someone finds us."

He nodded and slipped his copy of the CyroTech list into his pocket. "Thank you."

"I do trust you," she said watching him walk out of the room.

He paused at the door and turned back to look at her. "I know." She saw him struggle with himself for a moment before asking, "Will I see you tonight?"

"Yeah," she said, returning his smile, and watched him leave.

* * *

She had made it out of the facility with ease, which made her wonder how much of an evil organization CyroTech was if there was such a minimum amount of security. Sometimes, she found herself feeling slightly unfulfilled if she made it out of a building without some form of an explosion or a gunfight. The abnormal had become the normal for her.

Vaughn was waiting for her at the airport. Thankfully, he didn't have too many questions about why it had taken her so long to reach the rendezvous. She really hadn't come up with a way around admitting she was with Sark. Usually she could depend on her lying skills, but this time she had a feeling they wouldn't be good enough if she had to use them.

The flight home had felt almost normal to her. She and Vaughn had engaged in the post-mission talk they were accustomed to, detailing what they think the next step would be. It gave her hope that they could return to being friends without having to sacrifice any of their closeness. She would always love Michael Vaughn and what he had been to her when she was dealing with her double agent status and her mother's sudden reemergence

Something had occurred to her on the flight home that she didn't share with Vaughn. Their relationship was now so delicately strung together that she didn't feel it was time to start drudging through theories that would only cause them more pain. She had to give the difficult issues they had just argued their way through heal before moving on to other subjects like her current relationship or the issue with Vaughn's memory failing him..

Instead of telling Vaughn, she filed it away and chose to go straight into the office in exchange for running straight home. She had a question for her father, and she needed an answer.

The CIA facilities were practically deserted at two in the morning, but Sydney wasn't surprised to find her father hard at work. Work had always been a number one priority in his life. She walked over to his desk and stood over his shoulder until he felt her presence.

"Sydney, you're home from Quebec."

"I have a question for you," she said abruptly. "It occurred to me that during our last conversation you seemed to be grappling for information about my life. That got me wondering why you wouldn't know. I mean, it has been established that you know every single event that will happen in my life. So why are you so out of the loop now?"

"Because you aren't following my direction anymore," Jack said sternly. "Because you won't trust me to know what's best for you. Instead, you've taken things into your own hands. Things are not going to turn out well."

"I am an adult, Dad. I should be able to make my own decisions. I just wanted you to know that I still love you. I don't know if I can forgive you, but I do love you. If you will relinquish your control over me, I think we might even be happy together. Maybe I'll start telling you stuff again."

"You don't understand the importance of Project SAB47."

She glared at him. "No, you don't understand the importance of personal freedom. I don't care what some old man said about me in the distant past. I'll do what I want with my life. I'll choose what I do and what I don't. I'll decide where my career is going to take me and who I'll let work alongside me." She stared her father straight in the eye. "And more importantly, I'll choose whose bed I lay in at night."

She could see the shock on her father's face at her audacity, and that was the only reward she needed. Reasoning and pleading hadn't worked. Maybe blunt honesty will do the trick.

"Listen, Dad. I want you to think very hard about the outcomes of our little situation. Play them through in your mind. When you've realized that the only option you have is give me my freedom, call me at home." She shook her head and made her way back out of the facility.

She had plans to see the one man she actually trusted.


	14. A Face From the Past

"I never thought I'd say this," Sark said, chucking a pillow at where Sydney lay on his bed, "but you need to go to work."

She caught the pillow with a laugh. "I never thought you'd say that either."

"So what did Michael Vaughn have to say about your mission with him in Quebec?"

Sydney was thrown off a little by his sudden shift to this more serious topic which they had been systematically avoiding since she showed up on his doorstep earlier that night. "Not a lot." Her face wrinkled in both concentration and frustration. "I would have expected him to grill me about the extra long length of time it took me to meet him, but he didn't. I'm starting to worry about him."

He sighed and took a seat down next to her. "The lapses in memory?"

"Do you think it has anything to do with our little missing memory problem?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if it was more than just you and I wrapped up in this mess. However, the connecting link between Agent Vaughn and myself isn't really clear."

"Besides me."

"Besides you."

"And my mother."

"And Irina."

"And the whole growing up without a father thing."

"And that."

With a groan, Sydney rolled over and out of the bed. "My head hurts."

"Poor baby." Sark stood up to grab a women's suit out of the closet. "You left this last time you were here. I had it cleaned."

She smiled. "Thanks. That was extremely considerate of you."

After taking a quick shower and changing into her fresh work clothes, compliments of one evil spy, it occurred to her that she hadn't told Sark the whole story of what she had done before coming over to his house the night before. In fact, she hadn't even mentioned that she had made a small pit stop at the CIA facility before heading over to his home. "This should be fun," she thought as she walked into the kitchen.

He paused halfway into lowering his glass of orange juice away from his mouth as he immediately caught sight of her and picked up on her shift in mood. "What are you grinning at?" He took another sip of his drink.

"I told my father that I was sleeping with you."

The orange juice he had just drank sprayed from his mouth. "What did you do?"

"My father and I were arguing again. I guess my temper flared a little bit."

"I'd say." He chucked to himself, imagining the look on Jack Bristow's face when Sydney told him what she had been up to. Then a realization hit him. "You do understand that your father is going to kill me the next time he lays eyes on me?"

She poked him lightly in the side. "Well, we'll just have to keep you hidden away for the rest of our lives then."

Sark paused and gave her an odd look. "Are you planning on being with me for that long? You and me for the rest of our lives?"

Her heart stopped. She hadn't realized what she had just implied until he called her on it. Humor seemed to be her only option in getting out of this one without running the one good thing she had going for herself currently. "As if you could stay with a girl for that long."

"I might if it was you, Syd."

"You're full of crap," she said with a laugh. She quickly snatched the piece of toast out of his hand and began to eat it. "So what are you up to today?"

"More digging into the past, trying to figure out this mess."

"Same old, same old."

"Exactly. What do you have on your agenda, Agent Bristow?"

For a second, Sydney hesitated, wondering if she should tell him the truth. Then she realized if they were going to develop any sort of trust in their relationship they'd both have to start making a few leaps of faith. "A new contact, actually."

"Contact for what?"

"I'm not really sure. Dixon said he was working with a CIA-affiliated office in Chicago on developing a new analysis of this whole Rambaldi mess. They're sending one of their agents out to talk to me firsthand about my part in it."

"Sounds like you have one interesting day ahead of you," he said, pulling her into his arms.

She rested her head against his chest and sighed. "I wish I could just stay here with you. Is that weird for me to say?" 

"Taking into account our history, yes, that is definitely not the most normal thing you've ever said." He smiled down at her. "Now, go. Your father might put two and two together and realize you're with me. And then I'd have to start worrying about if someone's been hired to kill me."

"Party pooper," she said, shrugging out of his arms. "I'll see you later."

"Not if I see you first, love." Sark turned his attention back to the paper until he heard her car start up and pull out of the driveway. He had meant to spend the day tracking down Peter Connelly. "Damn bastard," he muttered folding up the paper.

When his old mentor had surface that day he had been fighting with Sydney on the cliff in North Korea, he hadn't been prepared. At the time, his focus was completely on the woman in front of him and inventing a way to get her to admit that they were meant for one another. It also didn't help that he thought Peter had died in a fire five years earlier.

"Looks like that plan is shot to hell," he said, grabbing his cell phone. If Sydney was going to be working with some new agent at the CIA, he was bound and determined to check out who it was. It had taken enough energy for him to get her to the place she was at. He wasn't going to let some new player in the game screw up the dynamic.

* * *

"What's up?" Sydney asked Weiss. "You've been paging me for the last ten minutes."

"Your contact is here. Dixon wants you to meet her now."

"Her?"

Weiss wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I know. Are you excited as I am?" 

"You're just hoping for a chick fight."  
  
"Aren't we all?" Vaughn said, entering the conversation. "Enough talking, Syd. You're half an hour late. Dixon's not happy. The sooner you get in there, the better it would be."

"Dixon owes me one and then some," she said with a shrug. "He'll get over it."

She gave Weiss and Vaughn a small wave goodbye before walking in the direction of Dixon's office. Her eyes caught with her father's on her way over, but she didn't stop to talk with him. A fight was definitely not what she needed right now.

"Dixon, I'm here," she said, entering the office. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic, you know."

Her eyes caught on the woman with long blonde hair and familiar blue eyes who was sitting in the couch next to Dixon.

Dixon held out his hand in the woman's direction. "Agent Sydney Bristow, this is--"

"Stephanie Harling," Sydney finished. "We've met."

"You have?" Dixon asked. 

"Hello, Sydney," the blonde woman said.

"She used to work for SD-2 in Chicago," Sydney explained. "I'm surprised you didn't know that. Isn't that the type of thing that usually comes up in a background check?" 

"My previous affiliation with the Alliance and the SD cells isn't a secret, Director Dixon. I assure you that," Stephanie said, standing up. "My current office just doesn't like to broadcast the fact. And seeing as how you both are products of that organization, I don't think it should make much of a difference to you. We were all lied to at some point."

"Could someone explain to me how you two got to know each other? I don't recall you working with the Chicago branch during the time we were partners," Dixon asked.

"That's because it was before we got matched up together."

"We met on one of the instruction retreats that the Alliance was always planning to keep their agents sharp. Sydney helped me get rid of a nuisance."

"Again with the riddles." 

Sydney would have been hurt by Dixon words if she didn't know he meant well. She would always feel bad about the years she had to keep him in the dark about her activity with the real CIA. At least, she didn't have to lie to him about work related things anymore. "Just personal issues," she thought to herself.

Realizing that Dixon was still waiting for an explanation, she smiled at him and started to explain again. "Stephanie was seeing an agent from SD-2. As we all know, that was against agency policy. He was on the retreat, and she didn't want me to know that they were involved."

"But she figured it out," Stephanie pointed out. "One thing I can say for Arvin Sloane, he was smart to recruit her into his division."

"That's about the only thing I give Sloane credit for," Dixon admitted."

"When we were at the retreat, Stephanie told me about what had happened between her and Paul. SD-2 was suspicious of Paul. On the retreat, she managed to finally get the intel to prove that he was really working for K-Directorate."

Dixon nodded, having heard enough of the explanation. "Well, since you two know each other, it shouldn't be a hard transition for you to work together again." He held out a folder to each woman. "This is the information that we have compiled from the intel Agent Harling brought us from Chicago and what we already knew here in the LA branch. You two should go over it and see if there are any discrepancies."

"Got it," Stephanie said, standing up. "Why don't you show me where I can set up shop here in LA, Sydney?"

Sydney nodded at Dixon and moved to leave the room. As soon as they were out of hearing distance, Stephanie leaned in. "So, tell me how you and Noah are doing. Are you two married yet?"

It threw Sydney for a moment before she remembered. At the time they first met, Stephanie had been the first person she had ever told about the relationship she was having with fellow agent Noah Hicks. That had been right when she and Noah were first starting their affair. Since Stephanie was from another branch, she obviously wouldn't be privy to the information on what had happened with Noah which meant she didn't have a clue about what Sydney was forced to do.

"Noah died four and a half years ago," Sydney said slowly.

"In the line of duty?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah. And it was my duty that killed him." When Stephanie looked back in confusion, she elaborated. "Noah was doing some freelance work that interfered with both my CIA mission and the mission SD-6 gave me. He and I fought, and I ended up stabbing him with a kitchen knife."

"Oh my god. I can't imagine."

Now it was Sydney's turn to look at her in confusion. "Can't you? I mean, you saw Paul fall to his death when we were fighting on under Niagara Falls. The man you loved died in front of your eyes."

"It's been so long since I thought of Paul. It didn't occur to me that you'd make that comparison."

She looked at Stephanie skeptically. Something wasn't right there. "Right. So what have you been up to in the past few years?"

"Probably the same as you."

"Have you been abducted by an enemy agency and forced to forget two years of your life shortly after shooting a woman who was wearing your best friend's face three times in the chest?"

"Not exactly."

"Then it isn't the same."

Stephanie laughed. "You were always one for the excitement of the job. Like most agents with clean backgrounds, I was offered a job with the real CIA when all the SD cells were taken down. I guess I have you to thank for that. I can't imagine if I was still working for an agency that lied to me like that."

"No problem. I take down evil agencies all the time when I have a spare second."

"That's about as exciting as my life gets, though. Since I was involved rather heavily in SD-2 operations, the CIA has lassoed me to a desk job. It's better than nothing, though." She shrugged. "I was never one for the freelance work."

"And you made a few reports on Rambaldi during your time in front of your desk."

"Which is why I was picked to go to L.A." Stephanie sat down at the desk Sydney had led her to. "So, I can imagine after the whole situation with Noah, you learned to keep your foot out of the work pool when searching for a boyfriend."

"Not exactly," Sydney said, looking over at where Vaughn stood.  
  
"That's your boyfriend? Nice." She gave her a wink.

"Actually, Vaughn's an ex-boyfriend. I managed to keep out of a relationship with him for the first two years I was here because of my work as a double agent and my previous experience with Noah. When we took down the Alliance, there was nothing standing in our way." Sydney looked over at her new contact. "Why do I find it so easy to tell you things that I haven't really talked about with anyone before?"

"That's one of the qualities that got me recruited. So what happened with this Vaughn guy?"

"To make a long story short, I disappeared for two years, he got married, and then he ended up shooting his wife to save my life. Needless to say, we were both different people than when we first fell in love."

"And…" Stephanie prodded. She could tell there was more to this story.

"And I fell in love with another one of the people I encountered on the job."

"Girl, you have a problem. I think you need to find some help."

Sydney smiled. "This is the last one, I swear."

"Oh, it's like that?" Stephanie smiled. It wasn't every day that a government agent actually found someone who could make them shift their focus from the here and now to thoughts about the distant future. "I take it then that you're still with him then?"

"Yes, but no one really knows about it. When I said I encountered him on the job, I didn't mean that he was my partner on a mission. In fact, he was usually working on the other side."

"You fell in love with the enemy? How Hollywood!"

"I think a book of our relationship would be a best-seller. A real page turner, if you get my drift." Sydney bit her bottom lip. "Now I think you and I have to stop gossiping and start working on this project Dixon gave us."

Stephanie nodded. "It's good seeing you again, Sydney."

"Yeah." Sydney brushed away the small nagging feeling that this was just too easy and convenient and picked up the file folder of information.

* * *

* * *

**Author's note: For those of you who haven't read Alias: Free Fall (one of the prequel books), Stephanie Harling was an agent of SD-2. She was aware that she was not working for the real CIA. In fact, on the retreat that she met Syd, she was sent there to figure out if Sydney was suspicious of the lies SD-6 had told her and to find out if she was involved with Agent Noah Hicks. On a side note, the fellow agent Stephanie was seeing, Paul, was actually a double agent for the CIA and not for K-Directorate.**


	15. Strength

Sydney sat at her kitchen counter, tapping her fingernails lightly. She hadn't spoken with Sark in a whole week. He had gone out of town on some sort of important business and hadn't deemed it necessary to call her during his whole time away.

"It's not like you have an actual relationship," she said under her breath. She blew the piece of hair that had fallen into her eyes back out of the way and continued to stare out the window.

It wasn't like she expected anything different. She didn't. Sark had a lot of things to do that occupied his time. He couldn't be reporting his every waking move to her. Especially since she would probably feel obligated to stop at least half of the things he planned.

Still, strangely enough, if he was nothing else, he was dependable. Sark had said he would be back that night so that meant he would be back in the country that night. She didn't know why, but she had just assumed he would find a way to come over to her house. It had become like a routine with them. Thinking about it, this assumption was probably incredibly foolish.

In fact, their whole relationship was incredibly foolish.

She had discovered that fun little fact while telling Stephanie about the man in her life. It wasn't easy trying to describe what they had. Even after hours of thinking, the way she had described to her old friend was about the best she could do, now or ever. "If prizes were given out for dysfunctional relationships, we would get the blue ribbon."

The words she had used had echoed through her mind since the second they escaped her lips. Normal people didn't call their relationships dysfunction, did they?

The uneasy feeling she had about Stephanie had quickly worn away. The girl had just been doing her job all those years ago on their mission in Quebec, and she was just doing her job now. It was silly to start wondering if maybe there was something more than what was present on the exterior. Dredging up old memories that should remain buried was one of her worst habits.

With that in mind, all worries were cast aside, and Sydney had found herself becoming immensely happy that she had someone she could talk to about all the important aspects in her life. Particularly a certain spy who seemed to be erecting barriers around a few specific parts of his life.

Bringing her mind back around to the topic of Sark, she groaned. What was going on between them wasn't healthy. They spent every waking moment together that they could. They couldn't get enough of each other. But when it came to telling anyone, they danced around the subject. There was this powerful history between them. They had a past. But both of them refused to return to that high level of intimacy they once had.

Sydney could remember that she had once lived and breathed for Sark. He was her whole life while the Covenant had her kidnapped. He was her sanity.

Now he meant a lot to her, but she really believed that she wasn't as strongly attached to him as she once was. She could leave. "Couldn't I?" she asked herself, standing up.

She began to pace the room, working through the many options that she could take to remedy the situation. She didn't like her options. On a positive note, the one that kept ringing through her head seemed to have at least a modicum of rational thought attached to it. On a negative note, that option was the one her heart really didn't want to take.

In her mind, the only healthy thing to do was to tell him that as much as she loved him, they couldn't keep seeing each other. It would hurt, but she would just have to work through the pain.

"Yeah, that's what I'll do," she said determinedly.

A knock on her front door made her jump and let out a tiny shriek. Rolling her eyes at how pathetic she was at times, she walked over and opened the door.

And there he was, leaning against the doorframe, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. His suit was crumpled from what must have been a rather uncomfortable flight. Immediately she wondered where his personal jet had run off. He was the type of man to not want to mingle with the pedestrians.

"Did I scare you?" he said in a husky whisper.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Okay, this might be a little harder than I though," she thought. Taking a deep breath, she motioned for him to come in and locked the door behind him. There need to be some sort of barrier to keep him from just storming out of the house.

"We need to talk," he said, suddenly serious.

"I know." She looked him in the eye for a moment before realizing that if she was going to do this, she couldn't maintain eye contact. The looks he was sending her made her uneasy and not in a way she currently wanted to be feeling if this relationship was going to be ended. Uneasy in the I-want-to-have-you-in-my-bed-this-very-second kind of way.

"This isn't working," she said quickly before she could have any second thoughts.

"Huh?"

"You and me. It's just not healthy." She absentmindedly played with the end of her sleeve in an effort to avoid his eyes. She could just guess the surprise and hurt that were reflecting in them. "You're a rational man. What we've been doing the past few weeks isn't what normal couples do. You know it, and I know it. We've been running around, hiding our relationship from all the people we care about."

"If you want me to broadcast how much you mean to me to the world, then I will. I was just assuming that you wanted to keep this whole thing quiet."

"It's not just that," she said swiftly, realizing that he was already beginning to talk his way out of this conversation. If she let him start to smooth talk his way out of this situation, she might not have the heart to tell him no. "You and I don't have a… normal relationship."

"What are you referring to?"

"We were intimate once." She paused not knowing where she was going with this. She had hoped he did, but when he didn't say anything in response, she understood that she would have to spell her point out a little more. "You and I have both been purposefully avoided getting that close again. We both have our reasons. But I just don't think we should be encouraging a relationship based on holding back."

He scratched the back of his head in the telltale sign Sydney had begun to associate with his being confused. "Could you maybe explain to me what reason you think I have to keep you at a distance?"

"I'm not exactly the girl you fell in love with." When he rolled his eyes at her, she groaned. "I know you're not going to admit it. But when I worked with the Covenant, I was a lot tougher. I had to be to survive. That toughness has worn off since I've returned to L.A." She frowned at him. "You like tough girls, Julian."

"I thought we agreed not to bring up Allison or Lauren ever again. They were mistakes, Sydney. Pathetic attempts to fill a void that could only be properly satisfied by you."

"Stop smooth talking," she warned.

"I'm telling you the truth. When I met Allison, I was just lonely. You know how the life we live can be at times. It was nice to have someone to come home to." He ran a hand through his hair, nervously. "And Lauren Reed was just a way to take a jab at that idiot man you were in love with. Michael Vaughn was just a pathetic man who would never be able to treat you like the precious gem that you are. I don't think I've ever wanted to hurt a man as much as I wanted to hurt him when I heard he had married someone else instead of searching every inch of the globe for you."

This comment threw her off. "You knew that he had gotten married?"

He sighed and looked at her. "I knew that he had foolishly moved on. I knew that you ran away from the Covenant that night and dropped in to see him on a date with his wife. Even if I didn't know that for a fact, that night you came to me in Algeria, it was written all over your face. Heartbreak is hard to hide."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"Because you needed to work through it on your own." He smiled at her. "Getting back to your original point, I don't think you're a weaker person than before. You're just as tough as I remember you being. In fact, you're probably tougher now that you've broken your ties with Michael Vaughn. To be blunt, you've always been a strong woman, Sydney. You don't know how to be weak."

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. He almost winced when he saw the two telltale signs that she was about to let him have it in her own special way.

"You were the one that asked me to give you a reason for this distance between us. Maybe since I don't seem to be getting the story correct, you can enlighten me to the real reason why you don't want me."

Even though he knew she would probably deck him in about two seconds, he couldn't hold back and let out a small laugh. "That is the biggest lie I have ever heard, the idea that I don't want you." She made a move to talk, but he held his hand up to her lips in an attempt to silence her. "Syd, I've been going near crazy this past few weeks from wanting you. Having you so close to me but still not being able to pull you as close as we once were is killing me. You're killing me."

"Oh."

"Oh is right. There are memories constantly flying through my head of what we once were." He smiled to himself. "You love it when I kiss that soft patch of skin you have right where your neck meets your back."

He couldn't resist it any longer. He had to touch her in some way. Reaching out he brushed the very spot he was speaking of. It pleased him to feel her shiver slightly. She might have a strong resolve to go through with this "break-up", but he was beginning to realize that what's going on in her heart might be fighting it out with what's going on in her head

Continuing with his explanation, he said, "You loved the fact that no matter how tired I was when I came home, I still couldn't get enough of you. I had to have ever inch of you." He smiled a little wider when she shivered again. "I can remember how it felt to have you shivering in my arms and see that look in your eyes and know that you were exactly where you wanted to be. I can remember the way you would claw at the sides of my arms when the excitement was too much." He reached over and turned her head so that she was staring him right in the eye. "I can remember how much you hated when the moment was over and my body left yours."

Bowing out of his touch, she felt a blush creeping over her cheeks and fought to hold it back. She scolded herself for acting like she was a teenager. "I remember all those things, too. But it just doesn't explain why you and I are both so afraid." She felt him stiffen at the mention of fear and was almost afraid that she had gone too far. She chanced a glance over at him and saw his temper flare.

"I'm afraid that I'll hurt you," he confessed slowly. It pained him to admit a weakness, even when that weakness was as drop dead gorgeous as Sydney Bristow. "But mostly I'm afraid that if I let us go back to that physical level we were once on, you won't believe me when I tell you that I love you. Because I do. Love you."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt herself raise a hand up to her mouth in shock. He hadn't said those words to her since the day he forced her to erase her memories of him during their two years together. At least he had never said them in this way. They had been thrown around casually between them, almost like they were words they had been saying to one another for years. This time was different though. She could feel it.

"I… I…" She fought to find the words to respond to him.

"Screw it," he hissed. She barely had time to react before he was yanking her into his arms and lowering his lips to hers.

It was a kiss with a purpose. He wanted her to not only hear what he was saying but also to feel it. So he threw off every last barrier he had constructed to keep her at bay and gave everything he had into that kiss. At first, it took her by surprise, but she felt herself give in rather quickly to the passion she could see reflecting in his eyes.

She felt him lift her slowly up off her feet, and almost by instinct, she wrapped her legs around his back. They never broke their kiss. Both knew that if they stopped at any point, rationality might poke its way through the haze of emotion they were currently feeling.

His mind was so focused on keeping her in his arms that he didn't even noticed when she snaked her hands down to his shirt and pulled hard. Buttons went flying everywhere. "I thought you didn't want us to continue down the road we're heading."

"In your own words, screw it," she said before lowering his mouth to his right nipple.

The move was so unexpected that he almost dropped her on the spot. Luckily he was used to surprising situations and managed to reestablish his grip. "I always knew I was smart."

She pulled herself up so that her mouth was right next to his ear. After nibbling lightly on the lobe for a little while, she leaned in and whispered, "Plus, the way I figured it, my reasoning was based on the fact that neither one of us want to be intimate." She ground herself against the rising bulge in his pants. "Looks like I was wrong on both counts."

"I'm holding you to that," he answered back. Not wanting to waste another moment talking, he found himself carrying her into her bedroom while trying to keep himself for losing control. Somewhere along the way, she had managed to unbutton his pants without him noticing.

He threw her down on the bed and just stood back to gaze at her. Sydney felt herself begin to blush as his shameless stare. This was something almost primal about the way he was gazing down at her, and it almost made her lose it on the spot.

"Come here," she growled at him.

Losing any last bit of control he had maintained before, he obeyed her command, but not in the way she expected. Grabbing her outstretched hand, he yanked her up so that her body was pressed down the length of his. Relishing the opportunity, he let his hands feel their way through territory that was so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. She pulled him into another kiss; this one so rough that it would leave bruises. He could feel her nibbling at his bottom lip until the salty taste of blood mingled between them. This was a new side to her that he slightly remembered but wished to relive for the first time this very night.

Figuring he would return her earlier favor, he ripped her t-shirt off of her body forcefully. Her teeth dug into his shoulders slightly as he reached around her back to unhook her bra. It fell to the floor beneath them.

He reached his hand out and stroked the bottoms of her breath, making her giggle. "That tickles," she whispered. Before she could let out another laugh, he was leaning down to take her nipple into his mouth. The difference in sensation practically had her orgasming on the spot.

She had enough sense to know that she couldn't support her weight for much longer. Backing up slightly, she felt the pressure of the bed against her knee and let Sark push her down on top of the bed. The mattress let out a satisfying squeak.

In no time at all, he had managed to throw off every single article of clothing from her body, only ripping one or two more articles in minor places. Having made this decision to finally act on the attraction he had been holding back, he didn't have the patience like normal to take extreme care in every move he made.

It was at this moment, feeling herself lying completely naked against the man she loved, that Sydney had a revelation.

She knew every line of bone to this man, every play of muscle, the shape of ever scar. His body was as known to her as her own. She could feel the taste of his flesh and the quick scrape of the stubble he had not had time to shave as it rubbed against her breast.

She knew every startling thrill to him.

He was rough. She made him rough. There was a switch deep inside of him that turned him from the cool, calculated man who was the epitome of civilized into a more primal man who craved feeling her next to him. The hunger they felt towards one another bordered on pain. They lived on it.

There was a desire deep inside of him to mate with her, hard and fast without any thought. She wanted it that way, and he knew it. He wanted to invade her, burying himself into a place he though he would never be again, feeling her wriggle and writhe beneath his body.

The years of separation drove them to an almost frantic pace. The denial and need gathered inside of him almost like a painful wound until every single part of his body hurt. Everything inside him ached.

And she was the answer. She had always been the answer.

He reached down and slipped one finger deep inside of her. She felt herself bucking against his touch, not wanting him to stop but at the same time wanted him to forget foreplay. She couldn't wait any longer than she already had.

Reaching down, she frantically unzipped his pants and reached her hand inside until she grasped him in her hand. She rubbed up and down the length of him with the same rhythm that he was teasing her. Within seconds, they both let loose loud moans and fell into each other, dazed.

"That was not how I imagined this," Sark whispered as he nuzzled her breasts with both his hands and mouth.

"Mmm hmm," was all she managed to spit out, still lost in the haze that he put her through.

As he licked and teased her back into a frenzy, Sydney felt a familiar pressure against her leg. Suddenly she was frantically pawing at his jeans with the knowledge that the pent-up energy between them wasn't keeping him out of the game for too long. The momentum of her frenzied activity had them falling right over the side of the bed and onto the floor with a thud. But nothing was going to stop them from finally being together in every sense of the word.

Having freed him of his confines, Sark wasted no time in driving into her.

She cried out, a short, shocked sound, and felt her legs wrapping themselves around him. He held his position for a moment just relishing the feel of him inside her.

Quickly, the feeling of her got to be too much, and he felt himself thrusting into her over and over again. She didn't want him to stop and was stunned to realize that she couldn't stop. She couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe.

Each violent thrust fired its way through her blood until she was ready to scream. She clutched at him, her hips pistoning against him, while her vision blurred.

The orgasm tore through her from head to toe. For an instant, her eyes locked onto his face. His eyes were nearly black with desire, and they were fixed on her with a kind of intensity that seared her to the bone. Even as they glazed over, as she knew that he was losing control, they stared down at her.

She knew that no matter how strong of a woman she was, she couldn't give this up.

As another orgasm tore through her body, she heard him groan and finally join her in release. Not wanting to be separated from him yet, she pulled him down on top of her to ride out the waves.

No, there was definitely no way she was giving this up.


	16. Breakaway

The contentment took her by surprise when Sydney woke up lying next to Sark. She had expected the feeling of satisfaction and even the small tingle of pure intimacy. But contentment was not something she had planned on.

For the first time in years, she was content with where she was in life and the direction she was heading.

Smiling to herself, she turned over and poked Sark lightly in the ribs. "Are you awake?"

"No," he grumbled while pulling her into his arms. She continued to poke him. "Are you always going to be this annoying in the morning?"

"Are you planning on waking up with me a lot of mornings?"

His eyes popped open. "Yeah, I am. Didn't you know that?"

"I could have guessed," she said placing a few light kisses on his chest. There were a few moments of quiet peace between them before something occurred to Sydney. "When you showed up on my doorstep, you said that we needed to talk. I assume since my plan to end this relationship shocked you, that what you wanted to talk about wasn't us."

"No, it wasn't," Sark replied. Sighing, he sat up in bed, pulling her along with him. "You know I've been on assignment this past week."

"Yeah, and you didn't call," she said, remembering one of the reasons she had been angry with him.

"I didn't have time to call. Anyway, I was thinking about you the whole time."

"And how am I supposed to believe that claim?"

"Because everything I was doing was for you, Syd. I was on more of a personal assignment than a professional one. I was looking into Stephanie Harling."

"I don't like it when you meddle in my life when it's not needed."

"I know. But this time it was worth it. I found out a few details about Agent Harling that you're not going to like. She worked for SD-2."

"I already know that. I worked with her in the field when I was at SD-6."

"No, you're not understanding me. Stephanie Harling worked for SD-2. As in, not the CIA."

"You're not making sense," Sydney said. She pushed away from him and stared at him. "I know that she worked for SD-2 just like I worked for SD-6."

"There's nothing similar about your situations, Syd. Unlike you, Agent Harling knew that she wasn't working for the real CIA. She understood the actions that the Alliance and the SD cells were taken happened to be illegal. She didn't care."

"I don't believe that. I know Stephanie. There could be no way that she would work for monsters like the Alliance."

Sark sighed and stood up. This conversation was not going to happen while they were still in bed. He picked up his pants off the floor and slid them on.

"Are you leaving?" Sydney asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

"No, I'm just getting dressed so we can finish this conversation. I advise you to do the same."

"You advise me, huh?" Sark felt a small headache begin to form as he registered the anger in her voice. "Well, I guess I should follow your orders considering you seem to know everything."

"Don't be like that," Sark said as he threw on his shirt. "This is hard for me to say to you. I know that Stephanie is your friend. But you've encountered this kind of thing before. You thought that you knew Noah Hicks, too, and he turned out to be a assassin-for-hire."

She cringed noticeably at his words. "Why are you bringing Noah into this?"

"Because he's involved. You met Stephanie Harling on a retreat that the different SD cells set up as a way to give their agents more training. At least that's the normal reason they're held. This one was set up specifically for you to attend, though."

"Why would they want me there? There was no real profit in the whole seminar. Nothing changed. Nothing was accomplished."

"Nothing was accomplished that you were aware of. If you asked Agent Harling, she would tell you otherwise." Sark sighed and rubbed his face in a sign of exhaustion. "Stephanie was sent to the seminar to test your loyalty to SD-6 and to also prod her way into learning the nature of your relationship with Noah."

"I was loyal to SD-6," she said truthfully. "I had no idea of the truth at that time."

"Which is what she reported back to Sloane. She also told him about your extracurricular activities with your sometimes partner."

Sydney chuckled to herself. "I always wondered how Sloane figured out that I was seeing Noah."

"Agent Harling was also able to murder a spy the real CIA had infiltrating the organization."

The humor was wiped off her face immediately and replaced with confusion. "I don't understand. I would have noticed if Stephanie had found time to murder someone. We were roommates."

Sark paused a second to think over how he was going to phrase his next statement. When he realized there was no easy way around it and no way to spare her feelings, he just said it. "You helped her murder him."

Realization dawned on Sydney. "Paul."

"Yes, Agent Riley was working undercover to gather information on how strong the Alliance was and whether it was a feasible option to destroy the organization at that time. He never had a chance to report back his findings."

Sark watched Sydney mull over this new development. He hadn't expected her to accept it for truth immediately. However, he also didn't expect to see the shift in her demeanor that he did witness.

"It's not possible," she said in a careful, surprisingly cool tone. "Agent Harling is working for the CIA now. There's no way they wouldn't have known that she was an informed agent in SD-2."

"The CIA are morons. I've been saying that for years. They don't know which end is up."

"There is no way that you could actually think the CIA was that incompetent. I mean, it's ludicrous that they wouldn't have figured out that Stephanie was playing for the wrong side at some point in their investigations."

"They didn't. And don't forget this organization is the same one that your mother used as her pawn for months without them realizing what she was doing."

"That's a special circumstance."

Sark paused and leaned himself against the dresser. "I'll give you that. Irina could outsmart the toughest agencies in the world." He smirked and looked up at her. "As could you, Agent Bristow. But you have to believe me when I say for whatever reason Stephanie Harling fell through the cracks. I think she's been assigned to hurt you in some way."

"Well she's obviously not doing such a great job. I'm twice as happy today as I was two weeks ago."

He lifted his eyebrow. "And that has nothing to do with me?"

"It's because I can tell her about my relationship with you and not be judged."

Sark stood up straight and made his way over to sit next to her on the bed. "You told her about us? And that doesn't make you suspicious."

"She wouldn't hurt me, Sark. There's no way. And before you ask, no, I'm not afraid that she'll tell my superiors the mess I seemed to have gotten myself into with you."

"Mess, huh? For a woman of such skill, you can choose your words very poorly at times."

She rolled her eyes. "My point is that I told her about Noah all those years ago and nothing went wrong because of it."

"Then you weren't listening. She was sent there to find out your relationship with Hicks. She was the one that let Sloane know the inappropriateness of having you two partnered up."

"Even if she was the person you say she is, there's no one for her to report all this information, too."

"She's working for someone, Syd. I don't know who yet, but I'll find out."

"Don't," she growled, throwing him a steely glance over her shoulder as she got up to get dressed. "Don't you dare continue to mess with my life."

"I'm not messing with your life. I'm trying to look out for you."

"I don't need a protector."

"I think you do," Sark said. He reached out to grab her arm and pull her close. "You're not thinking rationally." The fact that she laughed in his face didn't please him.

"Please. We both know that I haven't been thinking rationally for years now. Would a rational person get involved with the one person they've hated with all their heart?"

"I assume you're referring to me. To that, I don't have an answer. All I can suggest is that maybe you should reexamine the feelings you used to have for me. They might have never been hate."

"Oh, I hated you all right."

They lapsed into a silence. The conversation they were having was nothing like what Sydney had expected when she first woke up. They shouldn't be fighting on a night like this. That's not the way it happened in the fairy tales.

"Are you going to keep prying into my business?" she asked finally.

He looked at her and realized there was no way he could lie to her. "Yes. I will continue to look into it until I'm sure that you're safe."

"Even if I asked you not to?" She held up her hand before he could respond. "Forget it. You're too stubborn to change your mind. Julian. Stephanie Harling is my friend. She understands me."

"I understand you."

"Obviously you don't. Like I said before, I don't need someone to protect me. I can take care of myself."

"You're wearing blinders this time. You can't see the contradictions that are right in front of your nose."

"You're right," she said, looking him in the eye. "I can see now that this was a mistake. I want you to go."

He grabbed her hands in his and held on tight. "That's not what I meant."

"But it's what I mean. This thing that's between us could work for a while. But there's going to come a point when one of us has to make a hard choice. I don't think you and I would end up choosing each other over something else."

"Then you're not really understanding me when I say I love you."

"I know you love me. I just also know that you love the spy world. You couldn't stop yourself from running jobs if you tried. I love it, too. And in the spy world, this-" She gestured at him and then back to herself. "-cannot happen."

It hit him like a ton of bricks. "You're serious."

"Yes. If this is the only way I can get you to stop trying to protect me, then I'm serious. Goodbye, Julian." She pulled her hands out from his and walked over to the front door.

With a look of resignation, he followed her. Something made him pause in the doorway. "Will you do me a favor? Just watch yourself around Stephanie. Be a little suspicious of her. Don't let your guard down."

Sydney nodded.

"It was pretty good while it lasted, wasn't it?"

She nodded again, too torn to form words.

He kissed her lightly on her forehead and then headed out the door. As she watched him get into his sports car, she wondered if she had made the right choice. There was no reason why Stephanie would have been able to fool so many people without someone being suspicious of her. And Sark was always trying to shake up her life. A day never went by without him trying to convince her that some aspect of her life wasn't right.

If her brain kept coming up this reasons on why she was right, why was her heart screaming out that she had just made the worst decision of her life?


	17. Distance

Sydney would have expected Sark to keep calling her non-stop until she changed her mind about their relationship. At least, that's what she would have expected before she really gave thought to his reaction to her rejection. He had resigned himself to accept it, and when he left her house, she had seen the pain in his eyes.

She had hurt him.

It was hard for her to deal with. Without thinking, she had formed him into a man who didn't feel any pain, who didn't show any weakness. He had said time and again that he had a weakness. Her. But she hadn't really thought about what that meant. She knew now that she meant enough to him that he let her make her own decisions.

Which was why she wasn't surprised when he didn't call her even once. There would be no contact between them, at least nothing initiated by him. She knew that he wasn't the type of guy to accept defeat easily. But up until a few months earlier, she wouldn't have expected him to be the type of guy who would be so willing to sacrifice anything and everything just to keep her happy. She knew in the back of her mind that this time to think wasn't going to last forever. Eventually he would try to start swaying her again.

This rationale was why when her phone rang at her office desk she was so surprised to hear his voice on the other side. "I heard you're heading off to Mexico with Agent Harling on a mission."

"You know you can't be calling here," she hissed. "How did you get this number?"

"I'm a man with many resources. But it's nice to know that you're worried about me getting into trouble."

"You're always in trouble," she commented, unable to keep from smiling. This no relationship thing was going to be a lot harder in practice than in theory. "What situation warrants a call to my office?"

"I just wanted to make sure you'll keep your promise to me. Be careful around her. Mexico isn't exactly the easiest place to watch your back."

"It's fine. We're going to be in a populated area of San Felipe. Our mark has a soft side for spending her second husband's money."

"That's good to hear. I know that we're having some issues with trust here. Even if you don't trust me, I want you to still be on your guard."

Sydney rubbed her temples as she felt a headache automatically start to form. She couldn't do this again. "Let's not fight."

"I wasn't going to start fighting with you. See, I'm speaking in my calm voice." His heart skipped a little when he heard her chuckle on the other side of the line. "Hurting you is the last thing I want to do, and obviously, talk about Stephanie Harling upsets you. I just wanted to make sure you realized that you'd have little to no backup while you're in Mexico. You'll be a sitting duck for Stephanie to pick off whenever the moment is right."

"Number one, we can't have back up on a quick stakeout, take down mission. Number two, you're assuming that Stephanie is the woman you say she is."

"I know I'm right. And I just hope that you don't get hurt before you let yourself believe me."

"You shouldn't have called," Sydney pointed out. She scanned the room to make sure that no one was listening to her conversation. "This is only making things worse."

"No, this is only making things harder. I'm not going to push you, Syd. I'm not going to force you into decisions that aren't completely your choice." She heard him take a deep breath on his end of the line. "Honestly, I did want to warn you, but I also just wanted to hear your voice. You've become a staple in my life. It's hard to go cold turkey."

"It's the easiest way," she answered simply. "It's what I have to do right now."

"I understand that. I guess all I'm trying to say to you, the only point I really want to get across is that no matter what, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be right here, waiting for you."

"We both know that I made the right decision, Julian. Without trust, our relationship was standing on shaky ground. We couldn't keep going on like we were."

"No, we couldn't," he admitted, sighing. "Did you ever think that maybe instead of breaking off the relationship, we could just work on building that whole trust thing? You know the kind of person I am. Trust doesn't come easily for me. The same goes for you. It's going to take time and work."

"I know that. It's just that time isn't something I have a lot of right now."

"That makes two of us. I'd be willing to rearrange some things to change that whenever you're ready. Because I'm not the type of guy who just sits back and lets the one good thing in his life fall through his fingers."

A funny image popped into head, and she couldn't help herself. "You're not getting all Romeo and Juliet on me. We both don't have to die to finish this thing."

"No," he said determinedly. "There will be no dying on your part."

"Good. I've done it once, and I don't want to do it again."

"Why? Are you afraid you'll find another cold-hearted spy who will steal your heart?" 

"I'm not afraid. I'm petrified."

She could practically hear his smile through the phone. "Good. Be careful, Syd."

"I will."

"I love you," he said after hesitating a moment.

She said the only thing she thought she could afford to without losing all of the resolve it took her so long to build up. "I know."

There was a moment's hesitation as if he was going to say more before she heard the faint click of him hanging up the phone on his end. In her mind, leaving him had always been the right choice. It was bound to happen. They had a history together. Unlike most cases, though, their history was not a happy one. It was what made her doubt the words he said to her.

She hung up her phone and grabbed her jacket. She needed air.

* * *

Mexico was exactly like she remembered it. Too damn hot and dusty for her liking. The whole flight down Sydney had thought about her promise to Sark. She watched Stephanie like a hawk and was pleased to pick up on no suspicious behavior. He had to be wrong about her.

"What's on your mind today, Sydney?" Stephanie asked. They were sitting on a bench on the side of the street waiting for their mark to exit the store she was currently shopping in. "You're on another planet."

"I'm thinking about that guy I was telling you about."

"Oh yeah. What was his name again?"

"I never said. Don't be insulted, but I'm still not sure that anyone should know about me and this guy."

"I understand. It's the whole Noah Hicks thing again. I think you have a fetish for secret relationships, Bristow."

"No way. I know firsthand how horribly hard they are. I wouldn't wish them on anyone." She sighed and scanned the street, catching sight of a beautiful Mexican woman walking out of the store. "Marquez just left the shop. Let's go."

After a few moments of casually walking down the street in silence, Stephanie said, "Don't think this subject is over. I want to hear more about what happened with this guy."

"We had a fight. I ended it. It's as simple as that."

"No, I don't think it is. You seem crushed, Sydney. What did the bastard do to you?"

"Nothing specific, and he's not a bastard. We just didn't have any trust in our relationship. I guess it stems from the fact that he plays for the other side. I just can't believe him when he tells me things about my professional life."

"What did he tell you this time?"

"It was nothing. He was wrong." Sydney turned her attention to Gabriella Marquez. The young woman had built a drug empire from the ground up by the time she was twenty-two. She was arguably one of the most powerful women in the country. And the US government thought that she was branching out from drugs into weapon smuggling. Specifically weapon smuggling into the United States.

That wasn't even getting into her fascination with Rambaldi artifacts. It seemed like an epidemic that was spreading throughout the world. If it were up to Sydney, she would destroy every Rambaldi artifact she could find in hopes that her life would finally return to normal.

This Rambaldi connection, however, was the whole reason that Stephanie had volunteered to go along on the mission. She had been monitoring Marquez for months. The Chicago branch was convinced that she was harboring a particularly important Rambaldi artifact. Now it seemed she was about to release it and a good stock of weapons onto the black market. Marquez had a particularly interesting business meeting on that subject set up for later that day.

Sydney took a pause from the rational to just study the appearance of this woman. When Sydney first saw a picture of her, she wasn't surprised that she was drop dead gorgeous. A woman in Mexico with that much power would have had to use her looks to get her foot in the door. But she hadn't expected Gabriella Marquez's appearance to be twice as effective in person. It was a great asset. "God, I would kill to look like that woman," she said with a laugh.

Stephanie looked at her like she was crazy. "Sydney, I don't know if you've looked in the mirror lately, but you do look like that woman. You know, minus the whole Latino thing."

Sydney rolled her eyes and just kept walking. "I think she's heading into that warehouse. Looks like they bumped up that time table for the meeting."

"Lucky for us."

Both women made sure to not speed up their steps. Rushing around would draw attention to them, and they were supposed to take Marquez into custody not alert her to their presence so she could escape.

Sydney reached down for her gun and pushed the large metal door open. It creaked slightly, and she prayed that no one would hear it. Stephanie filed in behind her with her own gun in hand. They made their way up to the catwalk scaffolding that was hanging right about where Marquez was standing and settled in for a little bit of stakeout. Both knew that it was critical they made sure Marquez was doing what she was suspected of before they rushed in, guns blazing.

"So," Stephanie said, "How are you dealing with the cold turkey method of relationship ending?"

Sydney glanced at her. Why would Stephanie want to keep talking now that they had gotten down to business? "I don't think this is the time to be discussing it."

"Come on, Syd. We have at least half an hour before this thing really gets underway and we can make our move. We might as well entertain ourselves. We just won't let our guard down while we're doing it."

Resigned, Sydney nodded. She really did need to talk to someone about the Sark situation. "It's funny. He called it the same thing. Quitting cold turkey. I never really thought of it that way."

"It's hard."

"Tell me about it."

Stephanie reached out and touched Sydney's gun. "Is this the new model?"

Sydney relinquished her hold on the gun. Like Stephanie pointed out, she wouldn't need it in hand for quite a while. "Yeah. Dixon likes to keep me outfitted with the best stuff. I think he can't get past the whole partner mentality where he's responsible for keeping me alive. It's nice."

"I never had a partner like that. I never really trusted any of the people I was partnered up with." Stephanie looked over the gun in her hands, closely. "I've never seen one of these up close before."

"Trust is a big issue," Sydney said, her mind going back to Sark and staying there.

"It all goes back to this mystery man in your life, doesn't it?"

"I've gotten used to my life revolving around him. Seriously, though, I keep expecting him to be knocking on my door, telling me what a moron I am."

"And he isn't. That says something, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but not in the way you think. He's only staying away because he knows I need to think. If he pushed me, there's no way I would change my mind about ending this relationship. He knows me."

"It seems to me like you keep talking about two different men. One moment there's no trust between you, and then the next you're saying that you've trusted him enough to let him know the kind of person you really are."

"That's the dynamic of our whole relationship. I mean, he's given me no reason to not trust him. But it's just so hard to believe."

"Because of all the stuff he's done to you in the past."

A small warning went off inside Sydney's head, but she didn't flinch. "Right. All those run-ins in the field have taken their toll."

Her attention still focused on the gun, Stephanie continued with her train of thought, "I mean with his past, he's pretty much breed to hurt people. His father was vicious in his heyday."

Sydney's heart dropped out, and she really couldn't recover enough to keep the pretext of the conversation going. "How do you know about his father?"

Stephanie looked up, and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. She cocked the safety off Sydney's gun and pointed it at her. "I guess I just put my foot in my mouth. Funny, I've never made a mistake like that around you before. Well, I guess I'm just going to have to finish this now and clean up my sloppiness."

All Sydney could think was Sark had been right, and she hadn't trusted him enough to believe.

And now she was going to be killed.


	18. Not Thinking

**Author's note: Okay. I've still been waiting out to update until is back up and running. But that's taking forever. I don't like to post more than one chapter at a time on a board, but it's taking too long so I guess I'll just have to post two chapters at once over there when it's up and running. That way you guys won't kill me for the super, super, super long cliff hanger.**

* * *

Sydney sat staring at the barrel of her own gun. "He warned me about you," she said simply. "That was why we fought. He said that you weren't on my side and that you'd try to kill me one of these days. I trusted you and so we fought." 

"Sydney, Sydney, Sydney," Stephanie tsk-tsked. "By now you should know that you ought to let people earn your trust before you give it to them. I mean, how well do you really know me? Not as well as Julian Lazarey obviously, but still. We had those few weeks in Niagara years ago, and the past week has been nice and all. But you don't really know me."

"Who are you working for?"

"Myself," she said with a knowing smile. "After SD-2 was dismantled, I decided that I couldn't rely on an organization to make my living or give me a name. So I called up my old childhood friend, Gabriella, and told her I was going to make her rich. All she had to do was pretend to be the one creating this elaborate drug cartel."

"So, you're behind all of this."

"Yeah. I was hoping that one of Gabriella's, or should I say my men would finish you off so that I didn't have to. But my big mouth got away from me. I was too excited, you see. Taking down The Sydney Bristow. It's a big feat in the spy world. You're famous."

"You're not. You didn't even register on the CIA's radar until you brought in the intel on your own corporation."

"Yeah, I had to push it on you a little. Things were progressing too slowly." Stephanie faked a yawn. "I'm getting bored. You see, your delay tactics aren't going to work."

Sydney interrupted. "You know what I always wonder? Why do the bad guys always spell out their motives and future plans when it comes to confrontation time? I mean, the movies have pointed this mistake out a million times."

"It's because in the real world the hero doesn't usually escape. They die."

"Good answer. I'll be sure to let everyone at the Agency know when I'm done kicking your ass."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "See? More with the delay tactics. That's where everyone else who had you in their grasp messed up. They let you reason with them until you found an opening to get yourself free. Not going to happen today."

Before she registered what had happened, there was a loud bang and her shoulder flared with pain. Her hand immediately shot up to the wound to put pressure on it. "You shot me, you bitch!" she screamed through the pain.

"I'm going to do a lot worse to you before I put you out of your misery. I need some information on Rambaldi."

"It always goes back to Rambaldi, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does. Now 'fess up."

Sydney looked at her incredulously. "Do you think I'm actually going to tell you anything? You just shot me."

"Yeah. I probably should have thought that out before I did it. But oh well! Can't take it back now." Stephanie watched Sydney start to scan the room. "Don't search for help. We're alone. I told Gabriella to leave the warehouse after ten minutes and lock the door behind her. There's no escape."

"What now?" Sydney asked. The pain was starting to make her a little woozy, and talking was becoming hard to do. Two word sentences were probably the only thing she could manage.

"This," Stephanie said, kicking her hard in the head.

Sydney dropped to the floor, stunned. Before she could get her wits back, Stephanie had grabbed a nearby coil of rope and tied her to one of the handrails. She took a seat on one of the boxes nearby and waited for Sydney to recover.

"So. About that information I need?"

"Still not going to give it to you. Nothing you can do 'bout that."

"Not even if I tell you that I'm currently in a position to hurt every single person who means anything to you."

"I doubt that."

Stephanie reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a paper. "Let's see what we have here. William Tippin. Currently living in Wisconsin under the alias of a construction worker names Jonah. Dating a painter in his building and is seriously debating whether she's the one. Marshall Flinkman. Has a young baby named Mitchell and a wife named Carrie. That's a happy family. Michael Vaughn. The man who seemed to be the one. But to quote what you said yourself, 'we both changed'. I wonder if you still care enough for him to keep him alive. Eric Weiss. The only friend you had there for a while. Currently wondering why you've been secretive with him. I think I'll let him know about your little affair with Sark before I kill him. I thrive on seeing disappointment in my target's eyes. Do you need me to go on? I do have at least ten other targets."

"No, you can stop," Sydney replied.

"Good. Now about that information. There's a specific artifact that you acquired a few years ago. I need it. Give me the location of where the CIA stores them. That's all I want."

Sydney laughed through teeth still gritted in pain "You misunderstood. Didn't mean you could stop because I was going to give you what you wanted. Meant you could stop because I don't care."

"Really? You don't care about any of those people?"

"Care enough to know that every one of them can take care of themselves." She laughed again. "Plus, don't like threats."

"Okay. Maybe I should just kill you. A few of your little friends have access to the same knowledge. They'll crack under pressure, I'm sure. Especially when I tell them I've killed you. I think that will let them know I'm serious."

Sydney could feel dread filling up her stomach. The one thing she could count on was that Stephanie wouldn't kill her, that she was indispensable. Now she realized that the woman currently holding a gun on her really had no limits. She was just crazy enough to kill her, no matter what information she knew.

"Sark was right," she thought. "Stephanie is going to kill me."

Stephanie stood up. "Let's just get this over, then." She pointed the gun at her head. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, Sydney. It was nice to have someone trust me again."

Sydney closed her eyes and waited for the darkness to come. There was a loud bang. She waited a moment and then realized that she was still alive. Opening her eyes, she saw Stephanie clutching her chest. There was blood rolling over her hands.

"Damnit," Stephanie said before dropping to the floor in pain.

Sydney tried to look around and figure out what had happened, but the pain in her shoulder was bordering on crippling. She felt a pair of hands gently release the rope that was holding her to the handrail. Turning as quickly as she could without passing out, her heart stopped when she caught sight of her rescuer. "What are you doing here?"

Sark smiled at her. "Did you really think I was going to let you run off and get yourself killed, Sydney? At least not if I wasn't the one doing the killing." He reached down and scooped her up into his arms. "But we can talk about this later. For now, we need to get out of her before someone realizes what happened."

Sydney laid her head down on his shoulder. "Julian?" she said weakly.

"Yes?"

"I should have trusted you."

"Yeah, you should have. But we won't worry about that now."

He made his way out of the warehouse with her in his arms, checking that no one was watching the exit of the building. Using back alleys and streets with little traffic, he tried to get as far away from the scene of the crime as he could.

"Julian?" she said again after they had traveled a few blocks.

"I thought I told you not to talk."

"It's important." She strengthened her grip around his neck. "I don't think I like this whole quitting our relationship cold turkey thing."

She could feel him laugh lightly. The vibrations for some reason soothed her. "What, do you want to try doing it gradually? Would that be more convenient?"

"It might help."

"Well see." He stopped at the side of a parked sports car. Trying the handle, he was happy to find it was unlocked. He slid Sydney into the passenger's seat and made his way around to the other side.

"Is this your car?" she asked through her pain-induced haze.

As he ripped the panel below the steering wheel off, he looked up at her. "Not exactly."

"You're not hotwiring this car."

"Yes, I am. We need this car more than the owner does right now."

"You are such a bad person," she whispered before finally surrendering to the pain and passing out.

"But you love it," he said to himself as the engine revved to life. He pushed the stick into gear and peeled out down the street.

* * *

Sydney flew up with a start. She rapidly scanned her surroundings and realized she had no idea where she was. It was a small room with little decoration, but it looked cozy. She was laying in a bed, and there was a piercing pain in her right shoulder. Finally her eyes rested on the man lying next to her. 

"It wasn't a dream," she whispered mostly to herself. She reached down and lightly touched Sark's cheek just to make sure he was really there.

He opened his eyes slowly. "Hi."

"Hi."

They started at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts. Why are you here?"

"Because you needed me. Do you want me to take you home?"

"Not right now. Does Dixon know about what happened?"

"I had one of my contacts in Mexico give him an anonymous tip."

"I'll call him later. How'd you know where I was?"

"You told me most of where you were in our phone conversation. Do you still want to break up with me?"

"Not sure about that one. Where exactly are we?"

"Somewhere safe."

"More specific."

"I have a villa in Santa Barbara that I keep secret. I figured it would be safe to bring you here."

"Good to know. You flew me to Santa Barbara while I was unconscious?"

"At the time it seemed like the right thing to do."

"I see. How long do you think we'll stay here?"

"That depends on you. Do you still want to break up with me?"

She laughed wholeheartedly. "You already asked me that, you fool."

"The answer's really important to me, Syd."

She smiled at him. "I don't know right now. Things are just so up in the air."

"Do you think you're okay to go on a little shopping spree?"

"When did you learn my secret remedy for gunshot wounds?"

He winked at her. "It's my job to know the little things. Plus, you always go shopping after a mission. I figured there had to be something there that I could exploit."

She slid out of bed, making sure not to jostle her shoulder too much. That was when she finally realized what she was wearing. "Did you change me into sweatpants while I was unconscious? That's a little kinky even for you."

He laughed. "I had to get rid of your clothes. The top was blood soaked from your wound. Plus I figured you'd enjoy shopping twice as much in sweatpants."

"You know me so well."

Sark walked over to her side of the bed smoothly and scooped her up into his arms. "Would you mind too much if I just carried you all day to keep you from reopening that wound?"

"You're crazy."

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "Yeah, I know. Now let's shop."

The evening of shopping was eventful. There were quite a few natives blatantly staring at the well-dressed man weighted down by all the bags he carried and the women in sweats dictating their next stop. Sydney found it refreshing to forget how much havoc her life was currently in and just pretend to be a normal girl being pampered by her boyfriend. Except he wasn't really her boyfriend. Was he?

That was a question she was still contemplating when they returned to Sark's villa shortly after sunset. She was surprised when he led her to a different room than the one she woke up in.

"You can spend the night here. This is the most comfortable bed in the country. It should help alleviate some of the shoulder pain."

"Thanks." She began to unpack her new purchases from the bags Sark had set on the floor. Hearing Sark walk across the room and open the door to leave made her pause. She straightened up and turned to him to ask, "Where are you going?"

"I've had a long day what with getting you here and making sure you didn't focus on the pain you're in. I was going to turn in for the night."

"So then why are you leaving?"

"Well, I don't think staying here will help you make a decision about what you want in terms of myself."

She walked over and pushed the door that he had opened a small crack shut. "I want you to stay with me. That much I know."

He smiled at her. "I was hoping you'd say that." His heart skipped a little beat when she sent him a suggestive look.

"I can unpack those clothes later."

"They'll wrinkle."

"I'll pay for them to get dry cleaned or I'll iron them or something."

He pulled her into his arms, enveloping her whole body with his. It felt dangerously like home. He hadn't had a home in years. "Great argument."

"Let's go to bed."

* * *

Sark turned over and watched his love sleep. She always looked so angelic. She was so fiery during the day that it wasn't a surprise that she had to compensate when she was oblivious to the world. 

He pushed a strand of hair off of her cheek, continuing to stare at her. He had reached a turning point earlier that evening. She had been trying on some ridiculously skimpy pair of shoes. Her eyes met his as she was bent down to tighten the strap, and something clicked in his heart.

He had never been an extremely impulsive person. He always thought things out at least half a dozen times before taking actions. But something about this whole situation made him know there was no reason to waste any more time.

Sydney shifted in bed and turned towards him slight. Deciding this was as good a time as any, he reached down to the floor beside his half of the bed and into his discarded jacket.

"This is the right decision," he said softly, taking care not to wake her up. "I told you I would get tired of waiting eventually, Syd. I just didn't know it would be this soon."


	19. Changes

This time, Sydney didn't wake up with a start. Instead she found herself slowly drifting out of sleep and into consciousness in a haze of happiness. She was completely and utterly happy. It was a new concept for her.

Checking to make sure Sark was still next to her, she pulled her body out into a satisfying stretch. That was when she noticed the new edition on her finger. To be more specific, the rather large addition on the fourth finger of her left hand. She stared at it with incredulous eyes.

It was to this facial expression that Sark woke up. "Found my little surprise, didn't you?"

"Um. Yeah," she said, not knowing what else to say.

"So what do you think?"

She took her time in answering. Partially because she wasn't sure what he was asking her. But mostly she still wasn't positive that she was awake. Twenty-four hours earlier, she had been dealing with the fact that she was going to die. Things were changing and moving so fast. She had to be dreaming.

"Sydney?" Sark said hesitantly when he realized she wasn't answering his question. She continued to stare at her hand without blinking. "Are you even awake?"

"That's what I was debating," she said.

"You might want to try breathing."

She finally looked away from the ring and at the man sitting next to her. "Are you doing what I think you're doing, Julian?"

"If what you think I'm doing is proposing a lifelong commitment, then yes, you're right."

"That's ridiculous. You're not the kind of man who can settle down for the long haul with a woman."

"You're right. I can't just settle down with any woman. But I can settle down with you." He took her left hand in his. "You're not just any girl, Sydney. You're the first women I've ever met who doesn't take my shit."

"My mother never did," she pointed out. The words just flowed out of her mouth without conscious thought.

"I wasn't interested in your mother romantically."

"I always wondered about that."

"Let's not get off the subject." He smirked at her. "That's another thing. You're the only women I know who can manage to get me off topic in such a way that I totally forget what I was trying to say or do. You keep me on my toes."

She looked at him skeptically. "You can't be serious about this."

"I've never been more serious. I love you, Syd. You're the only woman I've ever let myself love. I think by now you should trust me when I say that. I risked my life to save yours yesterday, and I want to be able to do that every day of the rest of your life. I don't want to have to worry about whether you're safe. I want to have the right to make sure you're safe. I've lived my life carelessly for twenty-six years. I've been searching for a purpose. And I've found it. I was put on this earth to keep the most important woman in the world from getting hurt in any way."

She stared at him, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. She had heard his sweet talk before, but it had never sounded like this. He was so sincere. Sighing, she knew there was no other choice. "How could I deny a plea like that?"

His eyes widened at her words. "Are you saying yes?"

"I'm saying yes conditionally. I want some time to think about it before I have to tell the people I love." She looked down at the ring. "But I'll be keeping this baby on, thank you very much. Where did you get it so quickly?"

"It was my mother's. I've been carrying it around for a week. I was going to give it to you the morning after we made love."

"But we fought."

"And you broke up with me."

"How come that decision never seems to stick? How many times does this make it, me breaking up with you?"

"Two. Believe me, I've been keeping count."

Sydney's attention was drawn away from their conversation by the rising sun. "Do we have to leave Mexico any time soon?"

He pulled her in close to him and smiled. "I think a little time off can be arranged. You should call your boss. He's probably worried sick."

Sighing, Sydney reached over to grab Sark's cell phone off the bedside table. He gently stopped her hand as she was pulling the phone back to her side of the bed. "Do you think it's wise to call in sick from the phone of a man on the Most Wanted List?"

"Yes. They're going to have to deal with it." She pressed in the very familiar series of numbers. When a recorded voice played in her ear, she sighed and mouthed, "Voicemail." Rolling her eyes, she started talking to the machine. "Dixon, it's Sydney. I'm all right. Agent Harling went rogue. She was killed. I can't make it out of the country just yet. I'm safe. I'll get more word to you when I can."

When she hung up the phone, she noticed that Sark was staring at her. "What?"

"You just lied to him, Miss Perfect Agent."

"So I left out a few details."

"Including the one that I partook in the killing of Stephanie Harling. And that fact that you can't make it out of the country right now because you don't want to make it out of the country."

"But I didn't lie about being safe," she said, snuggling back into his arms. "I am safe."

"I'm glad to know that you finally feel safe with me."

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

He kissed the top of her head lightly. "It doesn't matter. I wouldn't mind it if you didn't trust me as long as you let me spend the rest of our lives trying to change your mind."

She pulled her hand out from his and looked down at it. "This is a beautiful ring. You said it was your mother's?"

"From her first marriage."

"You never told me your mother was married before she wed Lazarey."

"It only lasted two months. She loved her first husband with all her heart, but he died."

As a thought dawned on her, she sat up in bed and looked at the man next to her intently. "I thought you didn't really know your mother that well."

"I don't. All I have is a letter she wrote to be given to me on my sixteenth birthday. The ring was inside. She told me about her first husband and how much she wished she was around to see me place the ring she cherished so much on the finger of the woman I cherished the most."

As Sydney settled back down into the bed beside him, Sark's cell phone began to ring. "You should get that," Sydney said. "It might be Dixon. He'll want to speak with you about your intentions."

"That's all right. For the first time in my life, they're honorable." Sark looked down at the display and frowned at the unidentifiable number. His phone had the newest technology available. It should have registered practically any number in existence. Whoever this was, he had a feeling it was extremely important. "Hello?"

"Julian Lazarey."

"Yes?"

"This is Marek Romanowsky. I have some information that you've been desiring."

"Interesting." When Sydney sent him a concerned look, he shook his head and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He slide out of bed and walked into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

"Mikhail tells me that you've been dying to find out what you were doing working for the Covenant those two years."

"So the bastard finally decided to come through for me."

"A strange way of putting it, but yes, he did. He also mentioned that you didn't think you're reasoning for allying yourself with the Covenant had anything to do with their then recent acquisition of the CIA's best asset."

"Sydney Bristow."

"Yes, Miss Bristow was probably the best thing that happened to the Covenant."

"It can also be argued that she was the worst thing to happen to them."

"That wasn't their fault. It was yours."

Sark looked through the open door and was happy to see the Sydney had rolled away from the sightline of the door and appeared to be trying to fall back asleep. "What does that mean, Mr. Romanowsky?"

"Your whole reason for the drastic life change was to keep the Covenant from succeeding."

"That is the most worthless thing you've said so far. I already knew that I wasn't there to help the Covenant get more powerful. That's just common sense. I don't need a big touch Russian to tell me that."

"You were there to destroy them by taking out their number one weapon."

"I'm not following you."

"You were going to kill the number one assassin they had at the time."

Sark felt a slow realization dawn on him. He didn't want to believe it, though. "Are you saying…"

"You were there to kill Sydney Bristow."


	20. Truth

Sark paused at the door for a second and then turned the handle. He could still see the woman he loved lying silently on the bed. With a sigh, he let the door click shut behind him.

"What was that all about?" Sydney said, her eyes still closed.

"Nothing. A little unfinished business. I'm tired. Let's just go back to sleep."

"Fine by me," she said, without another thought.

Sark slipped in and pulled in close to her. He could feel her drift into sleep almost immediately. That was always one of her qualities that left him in awe. Her ability to compartmentalize was astounding. He knew that he was nowhere near that good at detaching. It wouldn't be easy for him to stop thinking and surrender to the unknown.

Plus, it wasn't every day that you had to deal with the fact that you once strove to kill the only person you would die for.

He hadn't slept for one second during the night. There was too much to try to figure out.

The idea that he had actively tried to kill Sydney Bristow didn't sit right to him. On one hand, it made sense. She was his worst enemy and the only person he ever met who had the potential to screw with his plans. On the other hand, she was the only person he would never dream of killing.

That little fact got him to thinking. Was it only now that he wouldn't think of killing her? Or had that sensibility always been there?

It took him two and a half hours. But he finally decided that there was never a moment in his time with Sydney that he would have killed her. Sure, he thought of it every second that she was promising him that same thing out loud. However, he had never delighted in killing. He had let people believe that the thirst for blood was what drove him to do what he did so well. But really it was just the fear of inactivity that kept him going all those years.

This took him back to square one. What would possess him to want to kill Sydney? Had she done something to him in those few critical days between the last thing he can fully remember after being taken into CIA custody and his first memory of being in the employment of the Covenant?

"You look like shit," Sydney said, pulling him out of his train of thought. He had been so immersed that he hadn't even noticed her waking up.

"I've had a lot to think about," he said, still caught up in his quest to figure out his past intentions.

"Do you want your ring back?" she said softly.

Realizing what his words must be implying to her, he shook his head emphatically and pulled her close to him. "That's not what I meant, Sydney. That ring is yours for as long as you want to wear it. If that's every day for the rest of our lives, all the better."

She smiled. "I'm already getting attached to it."

"Good."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Sydney continued the train of thought she had started before. "So, if it's not our possible engagement that's kept you up all night thinking, then what? It was that phone call you got, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It was a little unnerving. You know how that can be."

"Tell me what it was about." Seeing him hesitate, she added, "That is, only if you want to."

"No. I shouldn't start this whole thing by holding things back." He chuckled lightly to himself. "I'm going to have to get used to this, I guess. I never thought I'd be striving so hard for honesty. I think you're making a decent man out of me, Bristow."

"Good to know. Now stop changing the subject and tell me what that phone call was about."

"I had an important meeting to go to with Marek Romanowsky that night I found you on my doorstep in the pouring rain. I had been trying to figure out what made me start working for the Covenant in the first place. There was no way I would let them blackmail me into employment. There had to have been some reason that I found it personally advantageous to be there."

"Naturally." She was trying to keep her responses short so that he wouldn't pull back into his self-sufficient shell until the whole story was out.

"Romanowsky called me last night to let me know that he was still going to give me the information he had even though I'd screwed up the opportunity to meet at least twice. Seems he found the whole reason I worked with the Covenant."

"And that was?"

Sark pulled his eyes away from hers and bit his lip in a nervous habit. "You're not going to like what I have to say. If it were up to me, I wouldn't tell you until I had more information. But you deserve to know."

"Enough with the riddles. Spit it out."

"I was there to kill you, Sydney."

She burst out laughing but quickly stopped when she saw the look on his face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Completely. Romanowsky said that I wanted to hurt the Covenant by killing their top assassin. That assassin was going to be you as soon as you were taken through the brainwashing process."

"So if you wanted to kill me, why did you end up helping me?"

"I'm not really sure. I know if I had set my conviction to kill you, I wouldn't have gone back on it no matter what."

"Well, there's the obvious answer to that point."

"And that would be?"

She smiled at him and shrugged innocently. "You were in love with me. We've talked about it before. Our relationship bridged the thin line between love and hate. We were teetering on the edge for years before we worked together for the Covenant, Julian. Luckily, we ended up on the love side of the line. Because you and I would have killed each other if all we had was hate."

"I still wanted to kill you when we worked for the Covenant, even if it was love I was leaning towards," he pointed out.

"Yeah. That doesn't really make sense."

"I was thinking about it all night. There's no way I would have wanted to kill you. Not once when you were threatening my life was I seriously contemplating taking you out. Not once."

"Romanowsky must be lying, then."

Sark shook his head. "I really don't think he is. For some reason, I feel like something happened to make me want to hurt the Covenant. Something so big that I didn't even care that the best way to hurt them was killing you."

"Maybe you just pitied what I was going to be put through and you wanted to end my pain."

"That's the worst explanation I've heard so far. There's no way I would have thought you were weak enough to be destroyed by what the Covenant threw at you. Didn't I tell you all the time that you were strong enough to get past it in our two years together?"

"Every day."

"It doesn't add up."

They lapsed into silence, both trying to come up with new reasons why Sark would have wanted to do such an unexplainable thing. Finally, Sydney sighed and stood up. She slipped into a bathrobe that was at the end of the bed. "Let's look on the bright side for now."

"I'm not really seeing a bright side to this."

"You trusted me enough to tell me what happened. You could have easily have lied or just told me that it was silly business details. I wouldn't have doubted you. But you trusted me enough to know that I wouldn't go running when I found out your life goal was once to murder me."

Sark rolled his eyes at her. "Only you would start joking at such a serious time."

"If you can't laugh, what can you do?"

"I could come up with something," he said, winking at her.

"You need to settle those hormones down. We have work to do if we're going to figure out what's the truth and what's lies in this whole thing."

"Why are you being so understanding?" he asked.

He noticed her sober slightly and realized he might be asking questions that he really didn't want to hear the answers to. In the back of his head, a scenario played out in which she told him that the only reason she was being so understanding was she was afraid he might still be a danger to her. If she said that, he truly believed he would be crushed. That would be like a sharp stab straight to his heart.

"Do you really want to know?" Deciding knowing was better than ignorance, he nodded. "It was something you said to me that night I showed up on your doorstep in the rain. The same night you chose to miss your important meeting with Romanowsky for me."

"I don't recall saying anything that would keep you so loyal to me," he admitted.

"You did. It was when you thought I was asleep, though. I had a crick in my neck, and I stretched slightly against you. You reached out to brush the hair off my neck, and I could feel you lightly kiss me."

"I remember doing that."

"Then you let out a breath and said probably the kindest thing I've ever heard come out of your lips." The corners of her mouth perked into a slight smile.

"I don't remember that. What did I say?"

"You said 'Tell me everything you need and I will try to be that.' That's it. That's all you said, and my heart just froze. No one had ever said anything like that to me before."

"I probably got it from a song."

She reached over and smacked him hard. "Don't mock the moment."

"Oh, I would never dream of mocking the moment." He grabbed her hand as she went to smack him again and yanked her into his lap. "You are one amazing woman, Sydney Bristow."

"I always thought so."

"Now let's just forget about the dilemma our lives have fallen face first into and just enjoy our vacation together."

"Agreed," she said with a smile, leaning into his kiss.


	21. Return to Real Life

Sydney stared out the window as the plane flew over the Pacific Ocean. The memories of her missing years had not come back to her fully. At least not yet.

There were some aspects of it that she did remember. She could remember falling in love slowly by surely with the man seated across the aisle from her. The concept of it still baffled her, though. This was a man she had hated with all her being in the years she had come up against him in the field. He made her so frustrated and mad. He had screwed with her, mind, body, and soul.

And she loved him.

There were times over the two years where she felt as lonely as a person could be. Those were the times he was there for her. She didn't know why, but he was there.

A week earlier, he had told her that the only reason he had been working with the Covenant was to kill her. It just didn't add up to the memories she had. He never once tried to kill her in their time together. He had been a pillar of strength, the one thing that kept her moving towards the goal of taking down the Covenant. Without him, she would never have succeeded.

He hadn't made one move to try to kill her or hurt her in any way. From the very beginning of their time together, he had protected her. He pulled her from her burning house when everyone present was arguing that she should just be allowed to burn. He pointed out the use she held for the Covenant.

True, he might have been trying to keep her alive just so that he could kill her himself. But, still, it was an awful lot of trouble to go to.

She knew Sark better than probably any other person in the world. He could be cold and emotionless most of the time, but the theory that Romanowsky brought to the table didn't even fit in with that hard persona. To support the theory, Sark would have had to hand deliver her to the Covenant with the intent of letting her become a cold-blooded killer. He would have had to assume she would trust him enough to buy the lies he fed her about it being her national duty to take down the Covenant before they became too powerful. Then, when she finally trusted him and became Julia Thorne, when she finally was benefiting the Covenant, when they could see how much she would add up to one day, he would kill her without a thought.

Again, it just didn't make sense.

Sydney turned her head away from the window to stare at Sark once more. He was sitting quietly typing on his laptop. It was a scene she had gotten used to over the years with the Covenant. He had visited her every night with his laptop. Most nights, they barely exchanged a word. At least in the beginning. Back then, she still hated him very much.

It was strange to realize that as her hatred for him slowly melted away, she was becoming more and more like him. She began to erect emotional barriers and walls to keep everyone at arm's length. The work he convinced her to do required it.

She never fully understood why she found it so easy to give up the last few holds she had on her life as Sydney Bristow. If she and Sark hadn't been forced to erase their memories and return to their old lives, she truly believed that her life as Sydney would have died completely. She would have embraced her Julia Thorne persona if it might being able to stay with Julian Lazarey.

He had both made her cold and kept her alive at the same time. He had changed her in so many ways.

"I still love you," she said softly.

He looked up from his work. "Good to know."

"I just felt like I should tell you. No matter what happens between us, I don't think that will change. There was some sort of bond formed between us when we were with the Covenant. I don't think it can be broken. I don't care if you maneuvered me into my work there because you intended to kill me. You and I are not the same people we were back then."

Sark shook his head. "I still can't believe I would be willing to cause you so much pain just to get what I wanted. I wanted to hurt the Covenant, but I would never use you so completely to do it."

"Yes, you would. The person you were then would have used me."

Frustrated, he slammed his laptop closed. "You would have personally had to have done something really horrible to me. There's no way I would have used you as a pawn. Number one, I know you're way to smart to let me do that to you. Number two, I would have been scared to death what you would have done to me if you found out."

"I would have killed you on the spot and returned to my life in L.A."

"Exactly. You see, I don't think I wanted to die." He gave her a small smile. "I think there are still a few missing pieces to the puzzle."

"We'll find them," she said, reaching across the aisle to grasp his hand in hers. "Meanwhile, you and I can focus on something else."

"And what is that?"

"How the hell am I going to explain to everyone back home that I'm marrying you?"

"You mean how are you going to explain it to Michael Vaughn?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away from him. "Contrary to your belief, my thoughts do not revolve around Vaughn."

"They used to."

"Sure, I'll admit to that. But he hurt me. And I don't react well to hurt. I still love him, but he doesn't mean half as much to me as you do. You are the man I love, Julian. And he's going to have to accept that." She looked back absentmindedly out the window. "I'm most worried about Dixon and my father. They hate you."

"Let's not be irrational. Everyone hates me, not just those two."

"But they hate you enough to kill you for the kind of mind control you must have over me to get me to agree to marrying you."

"Ah. The mind control theory. I think that might be a popular one. We'll have to form our defenses now."

Sydney felt the plane bump lightly against the ground as it touched down. "Looks like we're too late." She crossed the aisle and leaned over Sark to peer out the window on the other side of the plane. "Great. No rest for the wicked, I guess. My father's waiting for us at the landing dock."

"We'll at least we'll get the worst out of the way immediately."

"If you make it out of there alive, that is." As the door lowered to let the outside air in, Sydney stood up and made her way off the plane. She stopped just before getting off the plane and turned to him. "Let me have a minute."

"Whatever you want," Sark said, winking. He didn't know what the correct thing to do was to give her enough strength to say what needed to be said to her father. This whole having someone who depended on him and needed his support was a new concept. It was complete uncharted territory. And he was either scared shitless or finally completely content. He couldn't decide which.

Sydney took a deep breath of air before walking slowly down the landing steps and over to her father. Stopping at a halt in front of him, she glared. "Why are you here?"

"Dixon told me that something went wrong with your mission with Agent Harling I was worried."

"With good reason. It seems like you knew that Agent Harling wasn't exactly batting for our team, Dad. Why would you let me go on a mission with her?"

"I was preoccupied with my own assignments."

"For a man who was trying to control my life and what's happening to me, you're really not that good at it, are you?" She didn't give him an opportunity to respond. "And I'm calling bullshit on your little comment about worrying. You never really worry about me when I'm on missions. You know I can take care of myself. You've banked on that little fact for years now. So, I ask again. Why are you here?"

"Rumor around the office is that you had help on the mission. I wanted to hear firsthand if that's true."

"If you're asking if Sark was there to help me, then, yes, I had help. That help saved my life, Dad. I was going to be killed by the double agent the CIA set me up with. By the way, you might want to mention to Dixon that we need a better screening process of our agents."

"Don't change the subject."

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't dare change the subject. Not before I tell you how this is going to go."

"You're going to tell me?" He chuckled. "That I would like to see, Sydney."

"Well, you already tried to tell me how things were going to go. That didn't really stick seeing as how I'm currently determined to marry the man you previously forbid me to see."

"Marry?"

"He asked me to spend the rest of my life with him shortly after he saved my ass. I told him yes without much thought."

"That was rash."

"I knew that if, after more thought, I decided that it wasn't going to work, I could tell him no. He loves me unconditionally. He would have understood."

"But you haven't backed out so obviously you haven't given it more thought."

"I thought about it the whole flight back to the States. I'm a different person that you remember, Dad. My time with the Covenant changed me. I know I keep saying that, but you just can't seem to accept it. I don't need you to protect me, to tell me what's the right decision to make. I've been making that mistake and so many more for years now. It's time I decide what mistakes to make."

"You can't be serious about marrying that murderer."

"Newsflash, Dad. I'm a murderer, too. I've done things I'm not proud of. The only thing that kept me sane was Sark. He's the only thing in my life that I'm sure of right now."

"He'll stab you in the back the minute you let your guard down."

"People have done that to me before." She purposefully stared him in the eye intently. "I lived."

Jack grabbed her arm forcefully. "You need to see Dr. Barnett. Something has happened to you. You're not thinking rationally."

She ripped herself away from him. "I'm thinking more rationally than I ever have before. I suggest you accept that before our relationship is scarred permanently."

Jack took a deep breath. "Listen. I love you, Sydney. You're my daughter, and I respect you. But I don't think you're in a position to see this whole situation clearly. You need help."

"She has help," said a voice from over Sydney's shoulder.

She turned to see Sark standing in the plane doorway. He winked at her. Turning back to her father, she smiled. "I have help. I trust him."

"You're a fool."

"I've been telling her that since she agreed to marry me. She won't listen." Sark made his way down the stairs to stand next to Sydney. "Aren't you going to welcome me to the family?"

Jack just scowled and turned to his daughter. "I am getting in that car and driving away. You're coming with me."

"I am not. As soon as you stop trying to control my life, Dad, you'll see that this might be the best decision I've ever made in my life."

"Aren't you afraid of how you'll be able to do your job when you're married to the enemy?"

"Sark has never really been the enemy. At least not completely. But I see where you're coming from. Sark and I have already met in the field since we started this relationship. It didn't go badly. I got what I wanted. He got what he wanted."

"I would never cause her harm, Jack," Sark said, slipping his hand into hers. "She's the only good thing I have in my life. If it came to it, I would fail at any mission I was assigned if it kept her safe. My loyalties are flexible to anyone but her."

Sydney held up the hand that was entwined with Sark. "Accept this, Dad. If you can do that, maybe we can figure out what to do about the issues between us." She nodded and began to walk away from her father.

"That went relatively well. You did fine."

"I almost gave in," she admitted.

"That's why I came out of the plane. You needed a little strength."

"Thanks."

"Any time, love. One down…"

"…So many more to go." She sighed and let go of his hand reluctantly. "I want to talk to Dixon first. And you know what that means?"

"Either I leave you to go off on your own or there's a blindfold and a bunch of wrong turns in my near future."

"I don't think you're ready for the blindfold stage of this relationship."

"I don't think I am, either." He walked over to his car that was waiting for him. Sydney couldn't even begin to fathom how he had managed to get his car to the airport so quickly. "So, your place or mine tonight?"

"You come to mine. In the daytime. Without hiding." She smiled and waved as he shut the door behind him. "That's the way it's going to be now."

"It's nice, isn't it?" he said, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his face.

"Yeah, extremely nice."

He turned the key in the ignition. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

As she watched him drive off into the horizon, she shook her head. "I sure am," she mumbled, turning to make her way to the CIA facilities.


	22. Someone To Lean On

The trail of dust Sark's car left behind had barely dissipated when Sydney heard her cell phone ring. She smiled at the number on the display. "Hi, Weiss."

"Sydney, I've been calling you for over an hour. Where have you been?"

She pushed a stray hair out of her face as she slid her sunglasses on. "A thousand miles over the Pacific. What's up?"

"You need to get to the CIA hospital as soon as you can. It's Vaughn."

Her heart froze. "I'm on my way." She flipped the phone closed and made a beeline to the car the CIA had left waiting for her at the terminal. The logical thing would probably have been to stay on the phone with Weiss while she was driving so that he could tell her the whole story, but she really didn't think she could drive and comprehend the full story at the same time.

She made it to the hospital in less than ten minutes, a definite record. Especially considering she hadn't cut off more than a dozen people and there was only one incident at a crosswalk. Racing into the front lobby, she saw Weiss talking with Dixon. "What the hell is going on?" she yelled when she got within earshot.

"We're not really sure," Weiss began to explain as they walked into the main hospital corridor. "Vaughn and I were on a stupid snatch and grab routine mission. He kept complaining that he was having sharp pains in his head. I told him to take some Advil, and then he just collapsed. Fainted dead away like southern belle in the hot Mississippi heat."

Dixon shot him a look. "You really can't turn that off, can you?" He turned to Sydney. "The doctors haven't been able to conclude anything yet."

Sydney nodded. "I'm glad you called me."

"It wasn't our decision," Dixon admitted. "Vaughn regained consciousness for about thirty seconds right when Weiss first got him to the hospital. He demanded that you be brought in. Said there was some kind of connection he made that he had to tell you about. Do you know what he meant?"

She shook her head. It suddenly occurred to her that she really hadn't been in much contact with Vaughn since they parted ways romantically. She had been a little too wrapped up in her own personal problems and her new relationship with Sark. As a partner, it was beginning to become obvious that she was neglecting a few things.

Weiss nodded smugly. "That's what I thought and what I told Dixon you would say. Honestly, I have no idea what he was talking about either. All I know is Vaughn has something seriously wrong with him. The doctors said if he doesn't wake up within the next forty-eight hours, there could be serious brain damage."

"How could this have happened from a headache?"

Weiss glanced at Dixon. "Actually, I've been telling Dixon that I think it's more than that. He's been having trouble remembering things lately. Stupid, simple things that he should have known like where he left his keys, the location of Marshall's office, my first name."

Sydney's eyes lit up in recognition as she made the connection. "I noticed that. He forgot… something important when I talked to him last about our fight. He promised that he'd see someone about it."

"Well, he didn't. If I had known, I would have taken him off active duty," Dixon said. "He wasn't in a condition to be working."

"I have to see him." She started down the hallway intent on doing just that and completely oblivious to anyone who might have told her otherwise. This hospital room seemed a lot more white and empty than she remembered them being. It also didn't help that a man she cared for greatly was lying helpless in the bed in front of her. "Oh, Michael," she said, sighing and taking a seat in the chair next to his bed. She reached out and grasped his hand in hers. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

After a moment's study of him, she changed her mind. "Make that what I have done to put you in this position. Damnit. I have no idea how this could have happened to you. Why didn't you tell Dixon about what was happening? Damnit."

Frustrated she stood up and started pacing. There was really nothing else she could do. Her mind was racing with theories on what happened, why it happened, why Vaughn. Nothing made sense.

Weiss found her still pacing and muttering to herself two hours later when the doctor finally cleared all other CIA personnel to see Vaughn. He told her that she needed a break and instructed she go get coffee or something else that was available from the vending machines down the hall. Initially she refused, saying that Vaughn was going to want to see when he woke up. Weiss reminded her repeatedly that the doctors said it might be a while.

Eventually, she took his advice and went down the hall to the vending machines. Three straight cups of coffee later however, she still didn't feel any more awake or alert to the situation. There was no sudden epiphany about what had happened to Vaughn and why, no matter how much she tried to make it happen. Frustrated she motioned to Weiss who was standing outside Vaughn's room talking on his cell phone that she was getting some much needed fresh air.

After taken a few deep breaths, she slid her sunglasses on to hide the puffiness in her eyes and began to walk toward where she had hurriedly parked her car. Her phone was on the front seat, exactly where she flung it. She dialed Sark's number and was relieved to hear him pick up on the second ring. "I don't think I'm going to be able to let you come over today."

He heard the emotion in her voice immediately. "Where are you? What happened?"

"I'm at the hospital. Vaughn's sick. I can't leave him. I just can't."

"I'm not asking you to, Syd. What happened?"

"No one really knows. He's been having weird lapses in memory for a while now. Weiss said he's been forgetting trivial everyday things that he should know. But it's not just that. Julian, he forgot that on the night he threw me out of his house that I told him I was in love with you. He couldn't remember that."

She heard him pause on the other end of the line. Eventually, he replied, "That is definitely not a good sign. What have the doctors said?"

"They don't know anything. I mean, besides the fact that this is serious." She bit her lip self-consciously. "I think this has something to do with me. I think someone was trying to hurt him to get at me."

"It's not always about you, Syd," he said bluntly.

"I know that. But most of the time it really is."

"What are you thinking?"

"I think someone has been slowly doing something to him. They wanted to get at me through him. Then he and I broke up. I don't know if they just decided to keep going with the plan or if they really didn't know anything changed between us. But he's in the hospital because of me." The reality of the situation finally hit her full on, and she began to sob. Through her tears, she managed to spit out, "I'm sorry. I know that I'm supposed to be strong, but I'm getting sick and tired of people getting hurt because of me."

"Whoever told you that you had to be strong is a moron, Syd. You don't have to be strong if you can't be."

She smiled despite her still falling tears. "I need you, Julian."

"Consider it done. I'm already on my way. I'll be there within five minutes. Just hang on."

She shut the phone and slumped to the ground next to her car, still crying. People passed her by, trying not to stare, but she knew they couldn't really help it. She was a complete mess. Emotionally. Physically. Her body was still bruised and battered from her altercation with Agent Harling. The pain usually helped her focus, but it seemed like nothing could help her understand what was going on.

Before she could even register that a full five minutes had passed, Sark was on his knees next to her pulling her into his arms. "It's all right, love. This is not your fault. You didn't ask for this."

"Thank you for coming," she spit out between the sobs that began to swell again.

Knowing there really wasn't anything else to say, he whispered in her ear, "I love you."

When her tears had started to slow, he helped her up off the ground and led her back into the hospital. This wasn't going to be easy, but he knew that he couldn't just leave her to deal with this on her own. His eyes immediately met Weiss's as he walked hand in hand with Sydney down the hall.

"Don't," Sydney said, letting go of Sark and walking over to Weiss. She touched his cheek lightly. "I need him to be here right now, Eric. I promise you and I can argue about it later, but just don't right now."

Weiss nodded and stood back, allowing Sydney to look into the hospital room. "He's still not conscious?"

"No," Dixon said, stepping into the room. "The doctor suggested we give him time to relax for a little while. Now would be a good time for us to have a chat outside, Sydney." He motioned for her to follow him out the door.

She grasped Sark's hand a little tighter and followed. This might actually be harder than telling her father about her relationship with Sark. The difference being that Dixon's feelings still mattered to her quite a bit. He had been her father figure at work for years, ever since Arvin Sloane matched him up with her as partners at SD-6.

Dixon paused as soon as they entered the private waiting room the CIA had organized for them to wait in. "So, start explaining, Syd."

Sark let go of Sydney's hand and took a few steps towards Dixon. "Before you two get started, I'm just going to excuse myself. If you want to talk to me when you're done, Mr. Dixon, I'll be right outside the door." He kissed Sydney lightly on the top of the head and shut the door behind him.

Sydney sighed and turned to Dixon. "He saved my life, Marcus. Agent Harling was about to kill me, and he saved me from her."

"That doesn't explain why he is here at this very moment."

"I needed him here."

"Vaughn wouldn't approve if he was able to talk."

"Do not use Michael Vaughn to prove your point. He would approve if I could explain myself to him."

"I'm sorry," Dixon said, touching Sydney's shoulder lightly. "That was a low blow. Continue with your explanation."

"Thank you. As you know, Sark helped me through my time at the Covenant. He's been helping me through the regaining of my memories these past few weeks. It's been hard. I've been grateful that he was here."

"I thought Jack and I had gone over this with you."

"You can't forbid me from seeing him. He hasn't done anything to hurt the CIA in months."

Dixon shook his head. "Are you hearing the words that are coming out of your mouth? He hasn't hurt us in months? This is the man who's supporting you?"

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Let me rephrase that, then. He hasn't hurt the CIA since he regained his memories of what happened during the two years it turns out we were both missing. Something happened in our time together with the Covenant. I'm still not sure what that is, but he's not the same, Dixon."

"A man just can't change like that."

"Men have before."

"Point taken. So, you're really going to continue this relationship with him?"

"At this point, yes, I am. For as long as he'll have me, I'll have him. He's exactly what I need in my life right now."

Dixon sat down and put his head in his hands. "I never thought you'd say that, Sydney."

"I can't change what I feel. I just hope that you can be understanding about it and give me a little leeway."

"I'll give you as much as you need." He looked up at her. "As long as it doesn't hurt my agency or you. I care about you. I don't want Sark to end up hurting you."

"If he will, I'll get over there. I know that he would never harm me in any permanent way." She smirked at him. "And I've learned how to deal with heartbreak. It seems to be my forte these days."

Dixon let out a chuckle. "Have you explained this all to Weiss yet?"

"No, I was saving him for last. He'll be the most hurt but also the most forgiving I think."

"I've already forgiven you," Weiss said from the doorway.

"When did you get here?" she said, turning in his direction.

"Only in the last few seconds. Your new man and I were having a conversation in the hallway before."

"Oh god. You didn't do any damage to the hospital, did you?"

"Believe it or not. We didn't come to blows." Weiss gave her a small smile. "That man really cares about you, doesn't he, Syd?"

"Yeah, I really think he does." Sydney hesitated for a second but then went into Weiss's outstretched arms. "Thank you for making this easy on me, Eric."

"You're my friend. If you're going through tough times, I want you to be able to come to me. And something tells me tough times are ahead again."

"Tough times haven't ended for me in years." Sydney sighed and backed up from Weiss's arms. "Now if you excuse me, I would like to get back to Vaughn's side."

"Wait," Eric said before she could leave.

"Yes?"

"I just want you to know that just because I'm letting you try this whole crazy relationship, it doesn't mean I'm still not way of it. I'm going to be watching him like a hawk."

Sydney smiled at him and launched herself into his arms. "I wouldn't think anything less of you, Eric. Thank you for watching out with me." Sighing, she stepped back. "And now I have to go."

Dixon nodded his understanding, and she walked back into the hallway where Sark was waiting for her. "I'm going to go sit by Vaughn's side for a while."

"You want me to go, don't you?"

"Yes and no. I wish you could stay, but we are in a CIA hospital. They'll only turn their heads for so long before they send a SWAT team in to apprehend you."

"Good point." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back to look at her seriously. "If you need me, call. I'll come back, no matter how big a SWAT team they send after me. If you need me, I'm here."

"Thanks." She gave him one last smile before walking back down the hallway to Vaughn's room. She still had a lot of thinking to do if she was going to figure out what had happened to him.


	23. Paranoia and Theories

Three days later, there was still no improvement in Vaughn and she was starting to get more scared by the minute. She still hadn't been able to make the connection between reoccurring headaches and a potentially permanent coma. It didn't add up. Sighing, she wiped her eyes, trying to make the fifth cup of coffee of the day kick in. She hadn't slept for more than four hours since she found out Vaughn was in the hospital.

"Tired?" Sark said as they walked down the hall.

"Exhausted. Thanks for coming with me today."

"It looked like you needed the extra support."

Pausing a second to try to put a genuine smile on her face, she pushed the door open and entered the hospital room. "Vaughn?" she said softly seeing the man in question sitting up on his bed and talking with Dixon.

"He woke up a few minutes ago, Syd," Weiss explained from where he was leaning on the wall. "He's been asking for you."

Sark saw her balance waver slightly and slipped his hand into hers while supporting her against his body. He nudged her slightly to get her past the threshold of the door and whispered, "He just wants to talk with you, love. Probably wants to make sure you're okay just as much as you want to make sure he's okay."

She gave him a faint smile before letting go to walk over to the hospital bed. "Hi."

"Hey, Syd."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like someone just ran me over with a car repeatedly. But other than that, I'm just fine."

"Do you know what happened?"

"No."

"That makes two of us," she said with a faint smile. "I'm sorry if this was because of me."

"We don't know for sure that it was."

"Come on." She gave him a skeptical look. Vaughn's eyes darted away from her to where Sark stood out of the way in the corner of the room. "I needed him here with me today," she explained. "You were really starting to scare me."

Vaughn looked back at her. "It's all right, Syd. I understand why he's here. I don't like it, but I understand."

She sat down lightly on the side of his bed and grasped his hand. Weiss signaled to Dixon, and they left the room followed by Sark. She leaned back so that she was reclining next to Vaughn. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

"I think so," he said with a smile. "Do you want to hear my off the wall theory on what happened?"

"Just jump back into it, why don't you?" She smiled and squeezed his hand. "But then I'm always up for a theory, and you were always good at coming up with the crazy ones. Let's hear it."

"I think it was Lauren."

"You think you're dead ex-wife did this?" She dropped his hand and felt his forehead. "Are you sure you're still not in the coma and I'm just dreaming this all up, safely tucked away in my bed?"

"They never recovered the body," he reminded her, ignoring the sarcasm. "I think Lauren was pissed off at you and hooked up with someone who was equally interesting in hurting you."

"The Covenant."

"Exactly. I think the two of them wanted to keep you distracted because they're planning on doing something big that they don't want you to be aware of."

"Good thing you're tough and bounce back really quickly."

"That's one thing I learned from you."

"Good thing you did or we might have been running around for years with our head in the clouds. Who would have though it was the dead ex-wife?"

He shot her a look.

"Why would they erase your memories, though? I don't understand how they would think that to be effective."

"I don't either," Vaughn admitted. "But you and I are going to figure it out."

She shook her head emphatically. "Oh no we're not, Michael. You're going to stay in that hospital bed until the doctors clear you. And then you're going to take it easy until we understand the full extent of your memory loss."

"I can't just lay here and let you do all the work."

"But that's normal protocol for us," she teased. When he shot her a mean look, she laughed. "Come on. I'll give you the fact that you've gotten the most severe injuries what with the stabbings and shootings and terminal diseases. But I get into a fight on every, single mission I go on. My life is threatened a hell of a lot more than yours is."

"All right. I should know better than to try to argue with you, Syd." He looked around the room. "So, if I can't get out of bed and help, where are you going to go from here?"

"I don't know. I'll come up with something, though. It seems like there's always someone I can rely on to come up with some harebrain plan to put my life into danger."

"You're good at fighting and kicking ass. The rest of us are good at finding situations to allow you to do that."

She rolled her eyes as she slipped off his hospital bed. "I'm going to go and let Weiss know it's his turn to comfort you in his arms. He's been waiting for quite a while."

"Oh god. Can't we just leave him out in the hall? It'll help me recover so much faster if I don't have to deal with his stupid jokes."

Laughing, she shook her head. "Oh, now he is definitely coming in here. He'll keep you on your toes, and the longer you have to deal with him, the more determined you'll be to go back to normal life." She gave him one last smile before stepping out into the hall. "He wants to talk with you, Eric."

Weiss gave her a big smile and stepped past her into the room. She chuckled when she heard Vaughn groan loudly. Dixon was smiling, too. "He didn't really ask to see Weiss, did he?"

"Nope. But no matter how much he complains, it's going to help me get better faster. Eric was great for my morale when I returned from my missing two years."

Dixon nodded. He remembered the pain she had gone through. "I'm going to talk with the doctors and see how long it is before Vaughn is out of the hospital and on active duty. You just relax and take the rest of the day off, Sydney."

She watched Dixon until he had disappeared around the corner before turning to look at the man standing quietly out of the way. "So, you stuck around?"

"Figured you might want to grab a bite to eat now that your worries have been alleviated. I kind of wanted to be the one you grab it with."

Smiling, she slipped her hand into his. "I have a hankering for a greasy cheeseburger."

"Americans," Sark grumbled under his breath.

They walked hand in hand out to his trendy sports car of the week. He opened the passenger door for her, and she thanked him. By the time he shifted the car into reverse, the slight tension was apparent.

"You want to know what Vaughn said to me," she stated, not turning to look at him.

"Yes, I would. But I'm not going to force you to tell me."

"No, you're just going to pout until I do."

"Give me an hour or two, and I'll be done, I swear."

She grinned at him. "No, I think I'll just tell you. He thinks that your old girlfriend is behind this."

"Anna Espinosa?"

Sydney's brow furrowed. "I didn't know you dated her."

"Once or twice a long time ago. It didn't work out."

"Good to know. Although your relationship with a K-Directorate agent has nothing to do with Vaughn being hurt."

"Was it Allison?" he asked.

"No. The other one."

"Your mother?"

"Now you're just being an ass."

"No, I'm keeping the mood light." The corner of his mouth perked up in a slight smile. "So, tell me how Michael Vaughn thinks his dead wife can be behind this."

"First off, he doesn't think she really died. She must have some how survived the half dozen or so gun shots he pumped into her. Vaughn thinks once she was mobile, she hooked up with someone who hated me as an act of revenge. She wanted to hurt him because of our "betrayal" of her."

"That's a pretty fairytale you two cooked up together."

"You don't think it's possible after everything that's happened to me already?"

"Oh, it's possible. I just don't think that it's very likely. I don't think Lauren has anything to do with what happened to your old lover."

"I keep telling you to stop calling him my old lover."

"But it makes you squirm."

"And I look so cute when I squirm. I know." She crossed her arms in front of herself. "So, what's your theory then?"

"I think that it something's I've done."

"Something you've done has caused people to mess with Vaughn's head? Now, that makes no sense."

He pulled up into the parking lot of the small family restaurant that was down the street from the hospital. "No, I think that what happened to Vaughn was done to hurt you. I think I had something to do with the decision to hurt you."

"So, you think you're still trying to kill me just like you were three years ago?"

He put his arm around her shoulder as they began to walk towards the front door. "Not consciously."

"Unconsciously, then."

"I think I might have set up a chain of events that would have kept me from having to do the actual killing. I'm afraid that that chain was never eliminated because the memory wipe I did on both of us."

Sydney slid into the booth in the back corner of the restaurant. "That does make sense." She held out a menu for him.

"Thanks. You know, there's really nothing we can do to find out for sure right now."

"I know."

"So, let's just try to enjoy a meal in peace without frying our brains with these endless questions and scenarios."

She nodded in agreement. There was a lot to think about and plan, but right now, she just wanted to enjoy the normal scene she seemed to be a part of, eating greasy cheeseburgers with the man she loved and planned on marrying.


	24. Russia

Sydney pulled her arms tightly against her body as she wandered down the snowy streets of Moscow. She had been to many cold places in her time working as a secret agent for both SD-6 and the CIA, but this was ridiculous. Her breath was practically freezing in the air in front of her face, and snow was continually blowing into her face, making it impossible to see more than two inches in front of her face. She had determined this whole situation was a little ridiculous, but there weren't many other options to go with.

Vaughn had been conscious for over two weeks now, and still no one really knew why what had happened to him happened. There were no leads, no further investigation. They had nothing to go on except for the man in question's crazy theory about his deceased ex-wife. Nothing really promising there.

Which served as the half-explanation why she was willing to wander from street to street on the coldest day in Russian history, waiting for her contact to greet her.

"Contact," she muttered to herself with a laugh. That was almost funny.

Meeting up with Peter Connelly, Sark's old mentor and father figure, was incredibly ironic, bordering on completely insane.

Sark was the one who had come up with idea the night before when she was telling him how frustrated she was by the CIA's lack of forward motion on discovering more information about Vaughn's illness. He explained that the reappearance of Connelly in his life couldn't be coincidence. Maybe during his two missing years, he had gotten into contact with the man who had taught him almost everything.

"It made sense," Sydney thought as she paused at a street crossing. If Sark had decided that she needed to be killed, he would only want the best helping him meet his objective. And obviously, the man who had trained him could be placed in that category.

"Hello, Ms. Bristow," said a deep, male voice from behind her in Russian.

She turned to see a fairly attractive man with eyes that irritated her skin. There was something inherently creepy about the way they bored right into her and made her feel like she was standing in front of him naked and not in ten layers of clothing. He was a few inches shorter than her but made up for it in the large presence he had. She would have written him off as another guy hitting on her while she was on the job if he hadn't addressed her rather directly by name.

"How do you know me?" she asked back in Russian, still looking him over in an attempt to figure out more information on who he was without actually having to ask him for it.

The man switched to English. Sydney immediately noted the slight British accent present in his voice. "I met you in Korea. You were trying to steal my warheads."

Sydney was proud to find herself stifling the gasp which was on the tip of her tongue. "Peter Connelly?"

"Yes, Sydney. Can I call you Sydney? I hate these stupid formalities we have to go through in the field."

"You can call me Sydney. But I want to let you know that charm doesn't go very far with me. I need information."

"Right to the point. No wonder Julian chose you."

She almost let loose the huge smile when he said those words. So, there was a connection between Sark's decision to have her killed three years ago and what's happening to the people she loved now. "Chose me?" she asked, playing dumb.

"For his lover."

Her heart sank. Connelly was just talking about her personal life. This had nothing to do with Vaughn and absolutely nothing to do with Sark's motivation for joining the Covenant. At least it had nothing to do with those things that she could see up front. "I figured it was more like I chose him."

"Maybe you chose each other."

"Why the hell are we talking about this on a cold street corner in Moscow?" she asked shrewdly.

"Excuse me, Sydney. My car is a block away. It has a wonderful heating system."

Nodding, she followed him in silence as he led them down the street and into the car. When they had both climbed inside and relaxed slightly, he let out a large sigh. "That's so much better."

"Let's get down to business."

"Yes. What is your business with me?"

"I need information. Did Julian contact you three years ago to discuss the subject of eliminating me?"

"You go right for the jugular. A trait to be admired." Connelly looked her over. "Nice costume by the way."

Sydney unconsciously adjusted the ends of the small blond wig which were sticking out from underneath the extremely warm hat. "The same could be said of you. I really thought you were balding when we met in Korea. Makes me wonder if maybe you're still in costume."

Connelly laughed. "Would you like to feel my hair? Or will you take my word that it's real? That I'm real? Because I didn't show up in any sort of disguise. I want you to trust me, Sydney."

"Why?"

"Because your trust can come in handy down the line."

Sydney glared at him. "Let's get one thing straight right now. I am not going to give you my trust, and I am not going to be indebted to you. You're going to tell me what I want to know because that's the only way you can insure I won't kill you."

"Oh you won't kill me, Sydney. You need me."

"Do I? Because all you've been giving me so far is some unwanted flirting and banter that I could get from home. I need information. I don't need you."

Connelly began to smile that large, wicked grin that Sydney had already begun to hate. "Yes. You are a spitfire. Just like your mother."

This time, her glare turned into a rolling of the eyes. "If you think invoking my mother's name is going to get you any farther, you are wrong. Every one I encounter in the field says that I'm just like my mother. I don't know if it's supposed to make me feel closer to them. Perhaps they use her in an attempt to gain my trust. Or maybe they just want to unsettle me a little so that they can gain the advantage. Either way, it doesn't work. I just get pissed off." She leaned in close to his ear, pressed the gun she had pulled into her hand a moment ago against his side, and whispered, "In case you didn't pick up on it, I'm very, very pissed off right now. Talk, Connelly."

"Now, now, Sydney. There's no need to bring firearms into this situation."

"I think there is a need," she said, although she did ease back and pulled the gun away from him and down to her side in a relaxed position that still offered her the ability to shoot him with ease.

Peter Connelly stared at her for a moment before saying, "Sark did hire me to help him with his little situation."

"Why? What exactly was the situation?"

"You two really don't know anything about what went down."

She groaned. "We were making progress there for a moment. You were talking. I was resisting the urge to kill you on the spot. Why did you have to screw it up?"

"I'm sorry. I just find this whole thing so intriguing. What happened to make you forget all that?"

Here eyes locked with him, and it was her lips that spread into a wicked grin this time. "There's something you don't know either, I take it. Because it was never really a secret why Julian and I don't remember the events leading up to our work together for the Covenant. But obviously, a man of your stature isn't privy to that kind of information. It's sad, really. I thought you might be a little more of a player in this game. Obviously, I was wrong."

"I suggest a little information exchange. I tell you what you want to know, and you satisfy my curiosity."

She didn't hesitate. "Agreed. Start talking."

"Julian contacted me with an offer. I help him move himself up the hierarchy of spies, gain more power, get more say in what's happening in the world, and he would make sure that I wasn't bothered for the rest of my life. I'm getting old, in case you didn't notice. It's time for me to bow out with grace and dignity and let the younger kids take over."

"And you have Sark, your little protégé, to carry on with the good fight."

"Exactly. I trained him for years just for that moment. So, naturally, I agreed. When he explained that all he needed from me was help in killing one spy, a woman, an American, I practically laughed in his face. The trade he proposed was far from fair." Connelly turned purposefully so that he could look her in the eye. "I'll admit I wasn't familiar with your work at the time. If I had been, I would have realized that the short end of the stick was on my half and not his."

"So, how did you help him?"

"I convinced him that the only way to kill you was to first gain your trust."

"That's the first thing we learn when studying how to get into a mercenary's mind. Tell me something I don't know, Connelly."

"You can call me Peter."

"I don't want to," she said, continuing to scowl at him.

"Okay then. We'll just move on. Julian told me everything he knew about you. It took a long time since the boy seemed to be such a great fan of you. Not only did he know about every mission you had ever gone on with any of the agencies you worked with, he also knew every single detail of your personal life, right down to the way you eat a sandwich. That was what gave me the idea on how to gain your trust. I told Julian that all he had to do was convince you that he was secretly in love with you."

"That doesn't make any sense." Her cool demeanor was beginning to falter. Sydney couldn't understand why her romantic relationship with Sark had anything to do with his motives. They hadn't even gotten involved with one another until both of them were submerged in the Covenant with no way of getting out. Connelly wasn't making any sense.

"Doesn't it make sense? I would have thought you'd be quicker to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Maybe I have overestimated you." He waited for her snappy comeback and was disappointed when she just stared at him. "The boy was already halfway to love at that point, and he hadn't even spent that much time in the field with you. I figured if anything was going to shape him into the super spy that I needed him to be, it would be killing the woman he loved."

"There's always the death of the woman the man loved in the stories," Sydney volunteered. "That's nothing new. What I don't see is what went wrong in our particular situation. He did love me. I'm not going to doubt that, no matter how much I think you want me to. But he didn't kill me. He didn't even try."

"No. He didn't. The only thing I can think of is maybe he figured it was more beneficial to keep you alive for a bit. I don't doubt that he was going to kill you at some point. But somehow you found a way out of the Covenant and his clutches. You were a worthy adversary."

"So my escaping the Covenant was the only reason he didn't kill me?"

"I have known Julian since he was little. He doesn't let his emotions get in the way of his job. It's what makes him so good. When Julian sets his mind to something, nothing and no one can deter him from that objective."

"What you're telling me makes no sense." She shook her head at him in disbelief. Never in a million years had she thought this would be the information that Connelly had for her.

"Sydney, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I really don't think Julian ever decided to not kill you. He's just biding his time until the situation arises where he can get away with it. That was why I wanted to gain your trust before getting into the nitty gritty. I didn't think you'd believe me."

The words stung her to her core. It was something she had always been afraid of, a nagging fear in the back of her mind. A little voice whispered to her every morning before she was fully awake that she was stupid to let Sark that close. The man was a cold-hearted killer once, and things like that don't change easily. "You're trying to tell me that he's still trying to kill me even as we speak?"

"Let me ask you this. Has he tried to make a lasting commitment with you?"

"Yes," she said, defiantly, sure that he was expecting her to say no.

He nodded. "Then you are really in trouble. Commitment makes an agent sloppy. Forgetting what their job is and the dangers it entails is the quickest way to get you killed. He's distracting you with everything he has. Has he started to attack your friends and family? I don't mean outright. But has there been weird unexplained occurrences involving the people you care about?"

Sydney's mind flew to Vaughn. It made sense. If Sark was trying to kill her, hurting Vaughn would keep her distracted enough to finish her off.

The problem with that was, somehow, even though they had that rich history between one another, she could no longer picture Sark hurting Vaughn. Somewhere, somehow, they had developed respect for each other. Mostly she thought that it was due to her presence in both their lives, but now she wasn't sure. Sark could just be calculating that his reformation into one of the good guys would keep her guard down, making it easier for him to complete what he had started three years earlier.

"Now, I have shared some information with you, given you my trust. I would like to see something in return."

She wiped the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes away as quickly as possible. "You wanted to know why Julian and I don't remember the specifics about his position in the Covenant during the time I went missing? Well, obviously, I didn't know because it seems he's been hiding anything and everything from me. Skilled killers never let their victims in on their plans, you know."

Connelly nodded in agreement. "The movies get that wrong every time. Telling people too much information is a juvenile mistake that no one makes anymore."

"So, obviously, the reason I'm in the dark is because Sark has kept me there."

"I did know that," Connelly agreed.

"So, now all you want to know is why Sark is so confused by his newly materialized motives." Sydney wiped another set of tears away. The absurdity of the situation made her spit out a small laugh. She had just found out that the man she loved had planned on killing her and still intended to kill her, and all the person brave enough to tell her the truth wanted in return was to know why Sark wasn't carrying through with his plans.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared to answer Connelly. "He told me that we both needed to get our memories of our time together erased. He said that it was the only way to protect ourselves and the ones we loved. So he took me to some specialist he knew in Zurich. I guess that was all a sham, too?"

"No, I think he really did have his memory erased. He must have let something slip when he was with you. Given you some sort of hint to what he was planning on doing. The Julian I know would go to any lengths to meet an objective he had set."

"Even erasing his memories?"

"He only erased up until the point where you two worked together in the Covenant. He still remembered his objective to terminate you." Connelly watched her face pale as she realized that he was right. "What? You object to my using of that word?"

"It's so cold," she managed to spit out in his general direction. Her mind was racing with the possibilities that Connelly's words created. If Julian had intended to stop himself from killing her, he would have erased his memories back far enough to do just that. Somewhere inside of him, he chose not to give up his decision to kill her. "Terminate is a brutal word, Connelly."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You need to accept that that's how he thinks of you. Cold and detached. You're really nothing to him except another mission to carry out."

Sydney's face lit up in realization and pain as the tears continued to pool in her eyes. "He did say something odd to me right before we got into the car accident on my last mission working with the Covenant. I asked him if he was mad that I had been working with the CIA during the last part of our partnership. He told me that in the end it didn't matter. At the time, I chalked it up to him saying that he had faith in what was between us. But, come to think of it, after that moment, he was a little distant."

"Almost like he was measuring you?"

"Exactly like that." Sydney let a new round of tears out, this time not stopping them as they fell down her cheek. "I can't believe that Julian would do something like this."

"He would, and he is. You need to be careful, Miss Bristow." Connelly leaned across her and pulled the handle that opened the door. "It's a cold, cruel world out there."

"That's it? You're kicking me out? There's so much more I need you to tell me." She was in complete shock that he wanted her gone.

"I've said too much already," he explained. "I don't want you to get overloaded with all this new information. You need to stay focus if you're going to stay alive."

"Because he's still trying to kill me," she said out loud, mostly to remind herself. She stepped out of the car and turned to look back at Connelly through the open door. "Do you think he ever really loved me?"

Connelly grabbed the handle of the door. "Honestly?"

She nodded.

"No," he said softly before shutting the door.

That final word made her last few defenses break down, and she sunk down onto the snow-covered ground. Hiding her face in her hands, she let the sobs take over. She could feel Connelly's eyes watching her as his car sat for a moment before speeding away. She let herself cry for a few more moments before pulling herself together and standing up.

She watched as the car disappeared in the far horizon, knowing how dejected and pitiful she must look to him. Unable to help it, she felt her mouth twitch up in a slight grin.

"Obviously he underestimated you, love," Sark said, stepping out from the doorway of the building behind her.

After brushing the snow she picked up on herself when she had sunk to the ground a few seconds earlier, Sydney pulled the ear piece out of her ear and tossed it to him. "The bastard lied to me, Julian."

"You lied to him, too. I never said that you're working for the CIA didn't matter to me. I was bloody pissed off at you for going behind my back."

"Yeah. But the lie, in addition to the broken heart and the crying, helped sell my story." She pulled her hat and wig off in one motion, which also released the bobby pin that had been holding her real hair down. Separating the two, she dropped the wig onto the ground and placed the hat back onto her head. "Those wigs are itchy. I really need to talk to wardrobe about that." She slipped her arm into his and started walking down the street. "So how much of that do you think was true?"

"A good portion. He had to use the truth to make it convincing. I think that I might have gone to him at some point for help in eliminating you as a way of getting into a better standing in the spy world. It sounds like something I would do."

"So you think he told you to get me to fall in love with you so that my guard would be down and you could kill me?"

"It was a good plan. Too bad he didn't think about its one weakness."

Sydney leaned her head against his shoulder as they continued walking. "And what would that be?"

"The fact that I wasn't supposed to give into to any sort of feeling I had for you. Knowing what I know now, that's the most impossible thing to do. He might have thought I was half in love with you when we started this little endeavor, but he didn't realize what a stupid thing it would be to let me go the other half of the way. I mean, even if he didn't know what a great spy you were, you have several attributes that a man couldn't resist like the legs that go on for miles and the stunning ability to respond to anything with a sarcastic comment. "

"Aw. I think you were actually being sweet to me there for a moment."

He smiled at her. "Don't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"Speaking of not telling anyone, I think your father is the only one who knows about our engagement."

"Yeah. I've been dreading telling anyone else. They're just starting to get used to the fact that you're a big fixture in my life. I'm trying to ease them into it."

"You have to tell them eventually."

She lifted her head up and looked him in the eyes. "I know. I think it's best to wait until we're sure that you're not still trying to kill me."

Sark smirked at her and shrugged. "It's only fair."


	25. Lunchdate

Vaughn sighed and pushed the food on his plate back and forth. His mind was obviously elsewhere.

"Earth to Michael Vaughn," Weiss said, waving his hand in front of Vaughn's face. "What is wrong with you? You just got cleared to leave the hospital today. You should be practically jumping for joy and enjoying every aspect of the free life."

Vaughn's expression shifted from blankness to concern. "Have you noticed something different with Sydney lately?"

"It always comes back to her, doesn't it?" Weiss shook his head. Sydney had come to visit Vaughn in the hospital every day for weeks except for one about two weeks ago. She had seemed preoccupied most of the time, but that was nothing new when you thought about the context of her life. "No. Haven't noticed a thing."

"She keeps acting like there's something she doesn't want me to know. I think it has something to do with Sark."

"That's what you always say," Weiss pointed out.

"I'm usually right." Vaughn took a bite of the pasta in front of him. His face scrunched up in agony. "Oh god, this stuff is awful. Why is this junk the first meal I end up with once I finally escaped the dreaded hospital meals?"

"I thought you would enjoy a new restaurant."

"I would. If it was a good one, that is." Vaughn sighed, threw his fork down, and leaned back in his chair. "I can't get past the idea that Syd would hide something from me. I know she's done it in the past. But she knows how confused I am about everything since this whole memory alteration thing. I don't know why she would be putting me through this."

"Why don't you ask her that yourself?" Weiss said, standing up.

Vaughn looked over his shoulder and saw Sydney approaching. When she recognized them, she gave a quick wave and jogged across the street to join them. "You're looking well," she teased as she sat down in the empty chair next to Vaughn. "I think it's the real clothes. That hospital gown did nothing for your complexion."

When her stupid joke got no response, she frowned. "Okay, boys. What is going on?"

"Vaughn has a question for you," Weiss said, snickering as Vaughn shot him a dirty look. He merely shrugged his shoulders and feigned ignorance.

Sydney turned to him expectantly. "I'm worried that you're hiding something, that's all," he explained.

"I'm always hiding something," she said, unconsciously agreeing with one of Vaughn's earlier statements. Realizing that he probably wouldn't let up on the verbal badgering until he had a definite answer, she continued, "I know that you probably shouldn't know this and that you probably already do, but the CIA hasn't really been getting anywhere when it comes to figuring out what happened to you."

"So you took it into your own hands," he finished for her.

"Unofficially, yes, I did what I had to in order to get information."

Vaughn nodded. "So what did you find?"

"The contact I saw said that it had something to do with my relationship with Julian." She was surprised when both men just nodded and neither said any sort of 'I told you so' type comment. "He thought that Sark would get at you, Vaughn, to hurt me."

"You don't buy that," Weiss stated-matter-of-factly.

"Of course not. I think there might be a partial truth to it, though. I mean, the Sark I know right now wouldn't hurt a hair on my head, but maybe this thing with Vaughn was set into motion years before I went missing. You two have never been the best of friends. I could understand why he might want to hurt you to get to me. We weren't exactly friends, either, in the past."

Vaughn grasped Sydney's hand suddenly, making her look him in the eyes with concern. She could feel his shift in mood from concern to something else, something indefinable. "What is it, Michael?" she asked.

"I want to thank you for doing that, Syd. I know it must have cost you a lot in some way or another." He took a deep breath. "However, I know that isn't what you've been hiding. Sure you haven't been telling anyone of your extracurricular activities, but that is something you do all the time. So, why don't you just tell me what it is, Syd? Please?"

"I think he might have an aneurysm if you keep him waiting," Weiss pointed out. "So you better do it."

Sydney shrugged her hand out of Vaughn's and pushed herself as far away from the table and the two men at it that she could. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Then why are you cowering in shame?" Vaughn asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not cowering."

"You sure aren't telling the truth," Weiss pointed out. "I have to admit that I really thought Vaughn was imagining this whole thing, but now that I see you, you really are hiding something from us. Out with it, Syd."

She shook her head, realizing that there really was no way out of this situation. "I'm getting married," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "I didn't know how to tell you, so I just didn't."

"Just to clarify. You're marrying Julian Sark, right?" Weiss asked.

She rolled her eyes at Weiss. "Yes. I've never been found of marrying men I randomly pick up off the street, so he seemed like my best option at this time. Though I have to admit that homeless man across the road is looking mighty fine right now."

"I just wanted to be sure that I had my facts right. You didn't have to get all sarcastic and mean with me, Syd."

"When do you ever make sure your facts are right? You're the one that's always making the mistakes."

"That's harsh."

"You've gotten yourself shot how many times now?"

"And how many times was that because of you or various members of your family?"

"Now that's unfair. I can't control my family."

"No one can control your family. They're like a whole other species."

Sydney rolled her eyes again and turned to Vaughn. "You're awfully quiet."

"It's a lot to take in, Sydney. You just told us days ago that you were dating Sark, and now you're marrying him?"

"It is a lot to take in. I didn't want it all to happen this fast, but that's how it's going. I can't change that nor would I want to."

Vaughn nodded his understanding. "You know, if things had happened differently for us, Syd, you and I might be getting married right about now."

Her heart stopped for a moment. She really hadn't thought about her engagement that never really happened. At the time she had been so confused about both her feelings for Vaughn and her feelings for Sark. She wasn't sure that she was supposed to spend her life with either one. And now things were so definite. But there was still the idea that she had been inches away from choosing Vaughn over Sark at so many points. It wasn't that hard a stretch to imagine herself walking down the aisle to where Vaughn was waiting.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think at all, did I?"

"It's okay, Sydney. I accepted the fact a long time ago that as much as I wanted it, you and I weren't going to happen. I'm just surprised that you're jumping into marriage with Sark so quickly."

"It feels like an eternity." She shook her head in frustration. "There's no way I'm going to be able to explain to you why I'm doing this."

"Try," Vaughn demanded simply.

"I feel like no matter if I make this legal commitment or not, I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. Things just fall in to place when he's around. You would understand if you could have been there when I was missing for two years. He was rock." She bit her lip in frustration. "You two have heard this all before, though. I've given you my speech about why he's in my life. They're the same reasons why I know I want him in my life for good."

"He's still the enemy," Weiss pointed out. "At least officially."

Sydney closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She really hadn't planned on having to do this. "You two have been crucial to my sanity for so long. I can't thank you enough for that. Which is why I'm going to tell you some things that no one else knows, not even my father."

"Sound ominous."

"Julian and I found out a while ago that the reason he was working with the Covenant was because he had a mission he wanted to fulfill. That mission was to kill me."

"And that's the man you want to spend the rest of your life with?" Vaughn asked with a laugh. If it hadn't have been for his light tone, Sydney would have started to feel nervous about continuing with her explanation.

"Well, he didn't actually kill me, now did he?" she said somberly. "Something happened to make him change his mind. As corny as this sounds, he fell in love with me and couldn't do it."

"That is corny," Weiss agreed.

"And so made-for-TV movie," Vaughn added.

"He didn't kill me. That's all that matters. He's been there for me when I've needed him." She sighed and sat up in her seat. "We've been trying to get to the bottom of this whole unknown. It's been so frustrating when neither one of us knows the answers. All we know is that at one point we both lived the answers."

"Sounds very poetic and angsty," Weiss pointed out.

"My whole life is ridden with angst. Sark and I think that his mission to kill me, our missing memories, and your faulty memory all are connected somehow." Sydney sighed and leaned in to the table and closer to her companions. ""So now you know it all. I am going to be Mrs. Number One Most Wanted Spy By the CIA."

"That's a hell of a new last name," Weiss joked.

"Oh believe me. I'm planning on keeping my own."

"So that would be Mrs. Number One Spy?"

"Shut up, Eric," Vaughn said, slugging his friend lightly on the arm.

"You guys aren't angry with me," Sydney said, staring at them. "You know, I really thought you'd be angry."

Vaughn shared a look with Weiss before turning to Sydney. "We both had a feeling something like this was coming."

"You did?"

"It was written all over the way you looked at him when you brought him to the hospital the day I woke up. For a spy, you can be really easy to read sometimes."

"You're not mad?" she asked again, just to be sure she had gotten it right. This was the man who had once believed she was the love of his life.

"It's your life, Syd. Live it how you want to," Weiss said. "We're just along for the ride."

"Where do we go from here?" Vaughn asked after a few moments of silence.

"I'm not sure. I'm still working on the lead that Sark gave me. I've been talking with his old mentor, Peter Connelly on and off for the last two weeks-"

Vaughn interrupted. "I told you she's been different for the past two weeks."

"-and I'm making progress," she finished, ignoring his comment.

"Thank you for this again."

"I'm just as worried about you as you are about me. We're partners, Michael. Always will be." She stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are probably a few more people I should tell about my engagement before you two make it the choice office gossip of the day."

"We don't gossip," Weiss said, feigning offense.

"He's partially right. I don't gossip," Vaughn chuckled. "Only he does."

"Get your facts straight, Bristow."

"I'll work on it, boys." She paused to give both men a quick hug. "You two mean the world to me. Thank you."

They watched her walk out of sight before turning back to one another. "I think that went well," Weiss said.

"She told us the truth."

"And didn't put up much of a fight." Vaughn began to dig into his food. He really was hungry. Now that his worry was mostly gone, he realized that the food wasn't as bad as he first thought.

"First time for everything."

Between bites, Vaughn asked, "So what do you think about her theory of Sark's reasonings for helping her out during their time with the Covenant and the problems inside my head?"

"I think it makes a lot of sense. I knew there had to be some good reason to make Sark keep her alive for such a long time. The whole falling in love thing is a good excuse, but it didn't just occur suddenly. Those things take time. So, obviously, with him wanting to hurt her in some way, they would have had to stay close. But what remains to be seen is what happened when he made the decision not to kill our favorite spy." Weiss shook his head. "All this thinking is making my head hurt."

"I know. There's still a lot that's grey if the theory is true."

"But at least it makes some sense."

"It's all we have right now."

"I know that."

"And it's just too bad that we can't mention it to anyone at the CIA. They'd laugh us straight out of our jobs and into the poorhouse."

"Does anyone really still use that word? Poorhouse?"

"It's vintage," Weiss defended.

"You're strange."

"Why don't you just shut up and eat your horrible food?"

Vaughn laughed and did as he was told.


	26. Separation

Sark sat alone in the hotel room he had been renting since Sydney had decided to go through this charade with Peter Connelly. They had to convince his old mentor that there was some big rift in their relationship or there would be no more information to be extracted from him. At least that's what she had said to him as a sort of explanation.

So, no contact at all was the plan. It had sounded like a good idea when it was still a theory. Now that it was in practice it didn't seem quite as exciting or worthwhile.

He sighed and stood up to look out the window, loosening his tie. The streets were deserted during this time, not quite day and not quite night. If Sydney had been around, he would have been sleeping by now. Her calming effect was desperately missed. Without it, he had become a jittery bundle of nerves, wondering what she was doing, who she was seeing, what progress was being made, every single second of every single day.

Shaking his head, he turned and flung his body onto the bed. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when Sydney had become a staple in his life. All he knew was that it was a good thing they were going to make a permanent commitment because there was no one else for him. Fate had seen to that in the only way it could.

He shut his eyes and willed himself to remember what exactly Fate had done to shove the two of them together. His memories of the months leading up to his time with Sydney and the Covenant were still incredibly cloudy. Sydney seemed to remember all the events occurring in her life with Francie Calfo and Allison Doren. So it really confused him as to why he had erased more of his memories than Sydney had. What had occurred that had made him decide the right thing to do was get rid of so many memories? Was there something terrible that he was meaning to keep hidden?

It didn't help that there were dozens of people waiting for the day when he would finally have that Eureka moment. Too bad it wasn't coming. At least, it wasn't coming soon enough.

He thought back to his time with the Covenant and the feelings he felt as he slowly fell in love with an agent from the opposite side. His feelings were vivid in his memory, but the actual pictures of them developing were still so unclear.

The image of a small hut on a beach flashed through his mind, and he clung to it, trying to figure out why it was there. It held no significance to him that he knew, but it really seemed as if it was somewhere he had been recently. Tensing his forehead, he tried to concentrate completely on that one mental pictures.

He could see it clearly in his head, right down to the last detail. He appeared to be walking along the beach to meet someone. No one else was around, so obviously his contact had done what he had asked and made sure the meeting spot was secluded.

In the back of his head, he felt himself wondering where these thoughts were coming from. His contact? A meeting spot? He couldn't decide if this was a real memory or just a fictional account for the time he so desperately wanted to remember. It wouldn't be beyond him to start to dream of possible solutions to the predicament he was finding himself in. At this point, he would probably do anything and everything to bring Sydney back into his daily life.

Going with this whole new possible memory, he felt like he was having an out of body experience as he raised his fist in his mind and knocked softly on the hut's doorframe before entering the structure. Sark knew who was inside without even thinking.

"Hello, Peter," he felt himself say.

"Hello, Julian. You asked me to come here, so here I am."

He chuckled. "Silly man. Do you think I've forgotten the way you operate already? If I had been the one to initiate this, you would never have shown up. You don't do anything unless it's in your best interest. What I can't figure out is how my request is in your best interest and why you want me to think it was all my idea."

"It's not everyday that my star pupil who I haven't seen or heard from in years asks me to help him get a membership into one of the world's top terrorist organizations, especially the organization you specifically requested. I wanted to hear in person your reasons for this absurdly strange request."

"You told me once never to reveal my reasons."

Sark watched Peter's face spread into that all-too-familiar maniacal grin. "I know that tone, and I know that aloofness well. This is about a girl. Who is she?"

"An agent I want to keep a close eye on. Let's just leave it at that."

"An agent with the Covenant? There's no way I can leave that sly comment be. The last time I checked, you couldn't be paid to take interest in your father's organization, and now, you suddenly know about all the agents in his employ. And you want one in particular watched. She must be something special."

"To start, Connelly, this agent is as good as they come. So I guess you could say that she's pretty damn special considering. Secondly, the Covenant is not my father's organization. He has been out of the terrorism business for over a decade and is now an almighty Russian diplomat stationed in some remote African location."

"Your father still has connections."

"I could care less about his connections."

"And I could care less about discussing your father. But it seems the only way I can get information from you is by digging it out of you in a round about way. That's always been the way we've played this relationship. Why change now? So, who is the special female agent you have so much interest in? Do I know her?"

"It's complicated."

"Isn't it always?"

"She's CIA." Sark could feel himself well up with pleasure at the surprise in Connelly's eyes. It wasn't often that he could surprise the man who helped make him who he was today, but when it happened, it was good enough to last him at least a year or two.

"How did you get mixed up with the CIA?"

"They're always trying to catch me."

"And have they succeeded?"

"Only when I wanted them to. You taught me well."

"The complimenting is too obvious," Connelly pointed out. "It screams to me that you really must need my help. You want me to kill this girl before she causes you trouble."

"Sydney Bristow is always trouble."

"Sydney Bristow? I've heard that name uttered from a thousand different mouths of extremely important people. She seems to be the premier agent in this whole business. She's the one you're so interested in now?"

"Yes, she is. I've been mixed up with her for years now, and let's just say that it's time I took a more active role in her life."

"Active role as in being the man who killed her?"

"Her death will cause me more trouble than it's worth. I need to keep her alive."

"I will think about," Connelly said. His gaze shifted to the door. "You know your way out, Julian."

"You're calling this meeting to a close so soon? Don't you want to know what I've been up to? You were always one for specifics."

"I already know what you've been doing with your time on this earth. It might be news to you, but you have been leading a high profile life for the past year, Julian. Every spy knows about what you've been doing lately."

"Are you telling me to tone it down?"

"I'm telling you that it couldn't hurt to brush up on the spy basics. You don't want people to know your plans until they've been completed and a few months have passed. Otherwise, there's a traceable trail left behind."

"I know what I'm doing, old man," Sark said, making his way to the door. "Let me know what you think about the deal by tomorrow."

Sark could feel himself leave the room, but for some reason, he could still see Connelly sitting at the table. He must have stopped to listen to Connelly's reactions to his demands. For a second, he wondered when he had decided this "memory" was really the truth. Maybe it was the realistic feel or something inside of him was remembering. Whatever it was, this felt incredibly real.

Sark snapped out of his thoughts as he heard his old mentor finish counting to thirty under his breath, and he could imagine Connelly pulling the cell phone out of his pocket. It was the same old protocol he had been taught by the man years earlier. A necessary precaution when one did not want to be overheard. At least a thirty second buffer must be used.

"This is Connelly. I think Sark can be used to our advantage. He's infatuated with this CIA Agent that the Covenant has in their employ. Yeah. Sydney Bristow. How did you know? She's really that important to you? Well, here's what I'm proposing. I tell him that I'm going to help him keep her alive because for whatever reason that's what he wants right now. I gain his trust slowly over the course of a few years. I know it's a long period of time, but usually the best of plans take a long time to come to fruition. The Julian I know won't be able to know a woman that long without wanting to get her into his bed. It will kill him to have to keep his hands off her. Yes, he really is that stupid. Once he does get his hands on her somehow, once he really starts to care about her being safe and alive, we kill the girl. We need to destroy every inch of his life if he's going to come back to work for me."

Sark shot up with a start. He was still lying on the bed in his hotel room, only it was now seven in the morning. He had fallen asleep. "Hell of a dream," he muttered.

The events that had run through his head came flashing back, and he let himself analyze them for a moment. He wouldn't doubt if Connelly had been trying to con him into returning to his organization. That made sense.

It all sounded too easy, though. He wished he could call Sydney and run this new potential memory by her. Maybe she would have a clue about whether it was fact or fiction. At this point, he just didn't know. Plus, Sydney would know what the next step should be.

"You're on your own," he told himself. "Time to stop relying on Sydney for knowing the correct thing to do. If you want her to marry you when it comes time, you're going to have to learn to be able to judge for yourself."

Throwing the covers back, he slipped out of bed and began to get dressed. He had a few things to work out before he could come up with who he should be talking to about this new development.

* * *

Sydney stared at Dixon from across the briefing room table. She had just dropped the whole engagement bomb on him and was waiting to see his reactions.

"What day is it?" he finally asked.

"March 15th."

"Oh. For a moment there I really thought it might be April 1st." Dixon sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "Could you please explain to me again why this is a joke you felt appropriate to try out on me at this time?"

"It's not a joke, Marcus. I'm engaged to Sark, and I plan on marrying him as soon as we both have a free moment to breath. I felt like I should tell you."

"Well, I'm glad that you felt that obligation. It gives me time to talk you out of making this mistake."

"It's not a mistake. I've thought about it a lot, and it might actually be the smartest thing I've ever done." She held her hand up to stop him before he could even begin to argue. "I've come to depend on Sark. He brings out the best in me, and I know he's been trying to change his less than perfect ways for me. That says a lot about the kind of man he is."

"The kind who can fool you into thinking he's the kind that can change?"

"The kind that really is willing to change the things that might keep us apart." Sydney stood up from the table. "I just wanted to let you know so that when the rumor mill started buzzing, you would know the truth."

Dixon nodded. "Thank you for that, even though it isn't much."

"You will learn to accept it someday," she said softly as she backed her way to the door. "You're going to have to."

"Give me time."

"We're friends, Marcus. We always will be. I want you to understand where I'm coming with this, and you want you to eventually accept my decision. I'll wait as long as you need me to. You have all the time in the world." She nodded slightly and left the briefing room. All in all, that had gone better than she expected. She made it out of the meeting with her job still intact, so it worked out nicely.

Sighing, she grabbed her phone, wishing for the millionth time that day that she could call Sark. It would make his day to know that she had finally told all her friends about their engagement. The secretness of it had been getting to him more and more each day. For a man who lived the life of a spy, he really did hate keeping his personal life a secret.

Mostly she just attributed the impatience to his wanting to get married as soon as possible. She knew that because the same impatience was inside of her, struggling to get free.

The phone on her desk rang loudly. "Bristow."

"Ah. Agent Bristow. How is the CIA life treating you?"

"How did you get this number, Connelly?" she hissed, scanning the room to see if anyone was paying her any attention. This was her private line and a number that wasn't handed out idly.

"I am as resourceful as they come. I want another meeting with you, Sydney."

"Are you ready to let me know more information?"

"I think you're ready to hear it now. Haven't been crying yourself to sleep lately, have you?"

Knowing that, even if he wasn't away of it, that comment hit close to home, the harshness of her mood came out in the tone of her voice. "You are a complete bastard."

"But I'm a bastard you will meet at the Carousel in the park down the street from your offices."

"As long as you have information I want, I'll show up."

"Good." Connelly hung up before Sydney could try to fish any more information out of him.

For the millionth and one time that day, she wished she could call Sark and ask him what she was supposed to do.


	27. Shady Alliance

Sydney sat on the park bench next to the Carousel, waiting for Connelly to show up. She had no idea what information he would have for her. The little bits of information she had pried from him had taken a lot of poking and prodding on her part. The idea that he was now willing to volunteer information was bordering on ludicrous.

That was adding to the frustration of not being able to bring Sark in on the progress she was making with Connelly. But they had to keep up appearances so that meant no contact, not even a short phone call.

She closed her eyes for a moment and felt the wind blow across her body. There was something in the air that was making her uneasy. The situation she found herself in had been bogged down with dead ends and failed initiatives. It was an endless, fruitless search, but she had a feeling that something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.

"Miss Bristow, you came," Connelly's voice called from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.

"What do you have for me, Peter?"

"You called me Peter. We are making progress. I think this calls for a drink."

"Hell would have to freeze over before I would choose to spend any more time with you than I already have. Now, why am I here?"

"Now, now. Must we rush straight into business?"

"Yes. That's all I'm here for. What do you know?"

"Julian never mentioned to me how all business, all the time you are." Connelly shrugged. "To each their own, I guess. It just hurts because although I know that you're incredibly impatient, you should still probably be a lot nicer to me considering how large a help I am being to you and your journey of personal discovery."

"All you've managed to tell me so far is that Sark wants me dead, which is pretty much old news. The man has tried to kill me more times than I can count."

"He came to me, Sydney, with the idea that killing you was exactly what he needed to work his way up the chain of command. It wasn't ludicrous or out of this world. He really is a practical man."

"I'm getting real tired of you trying to steer this conversation off track. If you don't get to a point, I'm going to leave you alone here in this park."

He rolled his eyes. "Like I said, impatience. As I was saying, Julian knew there was a margin of error to his plan, and that was the real reason why he brought me in."

"He wanted you to create a Plan B." Sydney nodded her understanding.

"Exactly." Connelly sat down beside Sydney and pulled her hand into his in a move that was so intimate that Sydney wanted desperate to punch him on the spot. "Tell me. You really care for your Michael Vaughn, your partner at the CIA, don't you?"

Disgusted but still in control of her temper, she yanked her hand away and slid as far down the bench as she could without falling off the end. "Vaughn is my partner, and he means a lot to me. That's all I'm going to say on that subject. "

"All I'm saying is that anyone doing research on you could find that out. First thing I teach my students is to understand your weaknesses and eliminate them. Michael Vaughn is one of your weaknesses."

"Are you trying to convince me to kill my partner or do you actually have the information you promised?"

Smiling, he winked at her. "I like it when you're sassy. It's so attractive. The reason I asked you to come here today was I thought it was time I stopped lying to you."

"How did I know that you had been lying to me this whole time? You are truly scum and a complete waste of my time." Sydney got up to leave.

Connelly grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her back down onto the bench. "I wouldn't be so hasty, Sydney. I never really lied to you. I just omitted a few details where I thought you might not be able to handle the whole truth."

"Like what?"

"I was the one who tampered with your partner's memory."

Sydney's eyes widened. "Were you behind all of this mess?"

"In a way, yes. But in the way I think you're specifically alluding to, no. It was my job to make sure that if Sark didn't go through with killing you, if you found some way to dig your claws into him, that I provided an out. So that's what I did. Vaughn's predicament should have distracted you enough to give Julian time to come to him senses and leave."

"But he didn't. He stayed and continued to lie to me."

"A pity, isn't it? It seems that not even I can get him to leave you alone."

Sydney stood up again, and this time Connelly did not stop her. "I'm really tired of playing this game of run around with you. Your flirty banter is lost on me, and to be honest, it sickens me. I'm tired of having to listen to you talk on and on about things that are not even slightly significant to me. I have real things to be finding out. So I think it's time that you just told me all the information you have, and we can terminate this little relationship we have going. It's for the best that we get this done as soon as possible and get out of each others' lives."

"It's in my best interest to keep myself useful to you, Sydney."

"What do you want from me, anyway? I just don't understand what's in this for you."

"You keep pushing me to play my ace in the hole. I'm not sure if that's very wise for either one of us."

Sydney leaned over so that she was hovering over him, placing her eye to eye and nose to nose with him. "Really, it's been fun, but I'm ending this. It's over."

A slight movement leading to the click of a safety being taken off a gun and a poking sensation in her abdomen made her freeze immediately. "Nothing's ever over, Miss Bristow."

She continued to look at him with determination, not letting this shift in control falter her. "So, this is new. Why the gun all of the sudden, Connelly? Are you really that scared of me when I get frustrated? Because you really don't want to see me in the middle of a mission."

Unwilling to let her ease the tension out of the fact that she had a gun poking into her, Connelly stood up, pushing the gun into her just hard enough to make her wince. "You're a descendent of Rambaldi. That makes you lethal. And that makes me a cautious man."

Sydney's eyes lit up in surprise. No one was supposed to know about that little detail. She and Sark had single-handedly confiscated and destroyed the proof that Milo Rambaldi had been one of her ancestors. Only the two of them should be privy to that factoid. Staring at him suspiciously in case this was just a good guess on his part, she asked, "How do you know about that?"

"It all goes back to the love of your life. The man can't keep a secret."

"That's a lie. The last time you spoke with him, Sark had no idea that I was descended from Rambaldi. At least no more than the rest of us did."

"It was always a suspicion of everyone that you were connected somehow."

"That's stating the obvious. Why are you trying to pin all my problems on Julian? Why is it so important that you keep us apart, Connelly?"

Frustrated with her constant questioning, Connelly forcefully turned her around so that she was no longer facing him and could therefore not look at him accusatorily. "Get walking before you manage to draw more attention to us. We have places to be."

"If I didn't know better, I would have thought this was a planned kidnapping. But you wouldn't really be that stupid, now would you?"

Connelly didn't answer. Instead he just led her down a few pathways in the park and straight to a black car parked on the curb. "Get in. We have much to talk about."

"I'd be more willing to talk if you got rid of the gun," she suggested while opening the back seat door.

"Not a chance." Connelly shoved her hard into the car and slid in after. "So, I'm sure, despite your calm demeanor, you're just dying to know what's going on."

Sydney shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. I knew you would pull something like this eventually. I just thought that I could wrangle a little more information out of you before you actually physically pulled a gun."

"Well then, you obviously underestimated me." Connelly glanced out the window for a moment as the car pulled away from the curb. "I guess we should follow the standard protocols of an unexpected abduction. That means I should start with the part where I break through your calm collectedness and make you finally realize what a pickle you've gotten yourself into."

"Go right ahead," she dared him.

"Where to begin?" he said with a chuckle. "First, there are a few things you need to know. God I love that phrase. It just rubs your face into the fact that there are things that I know that you don't, and I'm still not sure if I want to share."

"Could you do me a favor?" Sydney asked seriously. "If you fully intend to kill me at the end of this kidnapping, would you just do it now? I don't know how much more of your theorizing and babbling I can take without going crazy."

"I've known you were a descendent of Rambaldi long before Sark came to me with a plea for help in killing you. He wasn't the one that kept you alive. That was me."

"You're trying to tell me that Sark kept trying to kill me during our two years at the Covenant and you were the one preventing him from succeeding?"

"No. I was the one who made sure he fell in love with you so that he would protect you from himself. Less work for me that way." Sydney nodded, and he continued. "Like I've said before, the man was halfway in love with you already. It wasn't that hard to nudge him over the edge."

"Why did you want to keep me alive?"

"So that I could bring you around to my side, by force or by words. I need the only living descendent of Rambaldi to be on my side."

Sydney felt herself stiffen slightly at that statement and forced herself to let go and keep up the appearance of not caring. "So, you want to work with me? You really only had to ask. Kidnapping at gunpoint was not necessary."

Connelly rolled his eyes. "I also needed you to be distanced from the people who care for you most. Looks like I didn't even have to worry about that. All your friends at the CIA are avoiding you because they don't know how to handle your new engagement." He chuckled when he saw Sydney's surprised expression. "Didn't think I knew about that one, either, did you?"

The car pulled over in front of a large apartment complex. Connelly unlocked the door and stepped out onto the pavement. "I trust I don't have to bring the gun out again."

"No, you've intrigued me. I want to see where you're heading with this." Sydney tried her best to look brave as she followed Connelly into the building. He was right about her becoming unnerved. She had grossly underestimated him, which was ridiculous considering she knew him to be the man who formed Sark into the perfect spy. Peter Connelly knew a lot more about what was going on than she gave him credit for, and she had a feeling that the revelations for that day weren't over.

Connelly pushed her into the elevator and hit the penthouse button. "I figured that after today, you and I won't have many secrets between us. I might as well show you where I live."

"That's extremely stupid reasoning. Which is why I guess I won't be leaving this building alive if I don't agree to whatever you want me to."

"A very perceptive woman. Every day I realize why Julian is so madly in love with you." The elevator doors opened straight into the penthouse. "Welcome to my humble abode. Now let's get back to that kidnapping protocol. As I was in the middle of telling you in the car, you really don't have anyone to turn to right now, thanks to me. All your CIA friends are terrified by the idea that their best spy could be in love with their greatest adversary. Then there's said adversary. You currently aren't talking to him right?"

Sydney scowled at him. "Because you told me he was still trying to kill me."

"Which you pretended to believe. In reality, there was no way you would still believe that Julian Lazarey wanted to kill you. So, instead, you're pretending to be estranged from him, even though you're telling all your friends that you plan on marrying him. Sloppy details, Sydney. They're what ruins the perfect lie. And sloppy lies lead to trouble. How is Sark supposed to know that you're in this predicament when you aren't even allowed to contact one another? Looks like your personal savior might not be able to rescue you this time."

Holding his hand out, Connelly motioned for Sydney to enter one of the rooms. "I'm just going to leave you in here to think things over for a while. Then we'll start negotiating."

Sydney nodded and stood in the center of the room while Connelly shut and locked the door behind her. She took a quick scan of the room and realized there really wasn't much to work with. This was obviously where Connelly always kept his "special guests". It was a small room with no windows, and there wasn't even any furniture for her to break and turn into a weapon. It was just a blank room with doors that lock from the outside. There was no surveillance equipment either, which either meant Connelly was incredibly sloppy or incredibly smart.

She knew that she should probably be freaking out right now. It would be expected. "Probably would be having a nervous breakdown if you hadn't slipped up," she chided Connelly, even though there was no way he could hear her.

Connelly had made only one mistake, but it was huge. Earlier, in the car ride, he had referred to her as the only Rambaldi descendent. That meant that he had no idea that Nadia existed. Sydney wasn't sure how it would help her in this situation, but she knew this was all she had right now. Because Connelly had been telling the truth about one thing. She was probably the only one that could get herself out of this mess.


	28. Always Fina A Way

Hours later, Sydney found herself sitting on the floor of the empty room with no idea how to get out of it without hurting any chance she had of deciding whether or not Connelly had any knowledge that she wanted to have. The twisty-ness of her predicament was starting to make her head hurt.

"And I am so alone on this one," she murmured, standing up and brushing the dirt off the back of her pants. She took a quick, visual sweep of the room for the hundredth time and saw that nothing had changed. There was no way out unless someone unlocked that door for her. As much as she hoped and prayed, there was little chance of that happening.

Almost on cue, the door lock clicked open. "Connelly," Sydney said, nodding to her captor.

"How are you holding up?" he asked patronizingly.

She shrugged. "All things considered."

"Are you ready to give me your answer?" he asked.

She shot him a blank look. "And what answer would that be?"

"I want you and me to become colleagues in the workforce. That was what you were supposed to be mulling over in your time in this room."

"I must have forgotten. Sorry." Sydney sat back down on the ground with her legs crossed beneath her. "So, what do we do now? Are you going to abandon me for a longer, seemingly more excruciating length of time while I contemplate your offer again? Or are you going to physically pummel me into agreement? I just want to know if I should be bracing myself for pain or not."

Connelly leaned his body up against the open doorway. "Are you trying to think up a way to distract me and get free?"

Sydney smirked. "Is it working?"

"Obviously not. Listen, Sydney. This is a good offer. I'm offering you job security and a purpose that you can fight for. The Rambaldi descendent holds the power in almost every political equation."

"If I have the power, then why should I work with you? Nothing's in it for me."

"No, from my point of view, you're pretty much untouchable. But your friends? Your family? Dear Julian? They aren't so safe."

Sydney sent him a hurt look. "That was not very original. I would have thought you could do better, Peter. I mean, you were the one that taught Julian all he knew, and he always came up with very unique and effective threats to send my way. I'm surprised that you can't seem to do the same. "

"There's one thing you're missing." Connelly pulled a packet out of his suit coat and threw it in front of her. "My threat is not an empty one."

Sydney's heart froze as she stared at the envelope lying in front of her. Suddenly, she was quite afraid to reach out and grab it. Connelly wanted her to. She could tell that without even looking at him. "Why should I play your game?"

"Because you don't have an option, Miss Bristow."

Sydney reached forward and picked up the envelope. It felt incredibly light and yet way too heavy at the same time. She slid her hand along the edge and ripped one side open. A photo fell out in front of her and made her freeze. Licking her lips, she leaned down to get a closer look at the woman in the photo. "Carrie?" she choked out.

"It looks like your friend Marshall will have to raise that young boy all on his lonesome."

It chilled her blood to hear Connelly talk in such a cold, calculating voice about being responsible for the murder of an innocent person. Knowing that having an emotional breakdown would not help anything, Sydney rubbed her eyes to stop the stinging pain of tears forming. "You are one sick bastard," she finally managed to hiss out, flinging the envelope at the man standing in the doorway.

"I admit that you were never close with Mrs. Flinkman there. But I just wanted to prove that I'm serious in telling you that there's really no option. And now that you know I'm serious, we can move on with our next plan."

"There is no us." Sydney stood up abruptly and rushed at the door.

"I don't negotiate, little girl." The door slammed shut in her face.

"Prick," she screamed, punching the door hard.

The throbbing in her hand did nothing to sooth the anger and pain she felt inside of her. It was true what Connelly had meant when he said that Carrie's death would not hit her as hard as some of the others, but she still was deeply upset by the completely unnecessary loss.

It might be slightly selfish, but the thought ringing through her head that was causing so much pain focused more on Sydney than on Marshall and his family. She was certain that this was all because of Carrie's connection to her. Her life always seemed to be putting others in danger. It left her with feelings of self-pity that she knew shouldn't be going through her head at a time like this.

Frustrated, she punched the wall again even though it caused more pain to ring through her body. The physicality of it cleaned out her head and let her focus. She just needed to compartmentalize the hurt raging inside her for just a little longer until she could get away.

Again she scanned the room for something, anything, to use to escape.

* * *

Connelly only waited half an hour before coming back. Obviously, he wanted the pain of being responsible for someone's death to stay fresh in her mind. Sydney really was surprised at how much he underestimated her. If he had done the research he claimed that he had, he would know that she had a resounding ability to work through pain to get the job done.

When the door opened, she punched him hard in the face before he realized it was her fist coming at his face. She went running past where he had doubled over in pain and straight down the corridor, praying that his bearings took an abnormally long time to regain. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Connelly as she could.

Deciding that she had to get out of the building as soon as possible to send word to her family and friends that they might be in danger, she tried to acclimate how Connelly lead her to that torture cell of a room in the first place. She could remember taking a couple rights and then a left, but from there, the memories were hazy.

"Story of my life," she muttered, continuing to run down the hallways in search of escape. The worst thing she could do was stop moving. She knew that for sure.

After a couple minutes of running and only one or two stops to try to figure out where she currently was and where she was hoping to go, she found herself in front of an open door. It was the door to the very room she had just escaped from. There was no sign of Connelly where she had left him a few minutes earlier.

It was at that moment that she realized this penthouse apartment was really very much like a maze. Every turn she made seemed to lead her back to where she was before. She wouldn't put it past Connelly to have made specific renovations to make it exactly that way.

"He really wants me to stay," she said, turning around and going back the way she came. Again, the only thing that made sense was keeping in motion.

As she turned the corner, a fist connected to her face. "An eye for an eye, Sydney," Connelly whispered into her ear as he picked her up off the ground by her hair. She managed to bite back the gasp of pain. "Now, let's get down to business."

Even though her head was ringing from both the punch and the tug on her scalp, she could comprehend that Connelly was not returning her to small windowless room she had been calling home for hours. They were going somewhere else.

"Sit down," Connelly said after leading her into yet another sparsely dressed room. He shoved her forcefully onto a couch.

Sydney glared at him as he threw another envelope at her which hit her squarely on the chest. "What is this? Did you kill another person for me, Connelly? You really shouldn't have."

"You sound prettied hardened to the fact that Carrie Flinkman's death sits solely on your shoulders."

"Newsflash. My life has hardened me to the point of not caring," she lied rather convincingly. "Death does not hurt anymore."

"Your death would hurt."

"You can't kill me. You need me on your side," Sydney reminded him, leafing through the material. "What is this stuff?"

"This is your assignment."

"You want me to kill this man?" Sydney held up a photo of the newly elected leader of Lithuania. "I hate being an assassin for hire. I did that for two years against my will. I've pretty much moved past that chapter in my life."

"I don't want you to kill him, Sydney. I just want you to go talk with him. He has information that he said he would only give to the Rambaldi descendent."

She leaned back on the couch. "How important is this information?"

"It should answer all of your questions and most of mine."

"So it has something to do with Julian's rationale in wanting to kill me all those years ago?"

"Yes. You can leave in the morning. Once this is done, I won't be bothering you for a long while. Not until I need you again."

Sydney flung the papers at where Connelly stood. "I never said I was going to work for you, you asshole. I just wanted to get some information. Seems like you just told me where I can find all the answers I've been looking for the past couple mouths, you arrogant bastard."

"When will you stop calling me names? We have a job to do, and it's the only way you can stay alive in this scenario. So stop fighting and let's get down to business." Connelly smirked at her. "And before you start arguing again, you won't be able to get any of those answers without my say so. You need me as much as I need you."

Sydney rolled her eyes and got up off the couch, intending to walk out of the room. Connelly grabbed her forcefully by the arms and flung her back down. "You're starting to irritate me, Sydney."

She kicked him hard in the jaw with her right foot. "How's that for irritating?"

Connelly pulled a gun out of his pocket. "Effective. You're alone in this game now. I don't understand why you keep fighting me, your only ally."

"I have many more allies than you."

"None that can help you now. I'm the only one."

"You're not helping me. You're just threatening those I love. That's not helping."

Connelly grabbed her forcefully up off the couch and pushed her against the wall, pressing the gun into her side. "When will you get this through your thick skull? I am the only thing keeping you alive. You can't just banter and argue with me forever. My temper is going to get the best of me, and then you're dead. I'm going to give you ten seconds. If you haven't made a decision on whether you want to live or die by then, I'm going to shoot you. And you will bleed to death here, all alone, knowing that no one you cared about was smart enough to find you."

Sydney stiffened as his words bit into her. There was really nothing she could do. She was either going to have to compromise her integrity and agree to work with him or he would really shoot her on the spot.

Before she could answer, she heard the closed door burst open, and footsteps indicated that someone had come barreling inside. Connelly's body was pushed into hers hard, and she felt the gun break one of her ribs as the weight of his body flattened her into the wall. She slid to the ground when the pressure alleviated and tried to compartmentalize the pain and focus on what was going on around her. She could hear scuffling and struggling, but her eyes just wouldn't focus. Everything was blurry. Her head must have slammed into the wall a little harder than she had first realized.

After repeated blinking and under-breath swearing for a few minutes, she heard the struggle end abruptly. "Connelly?" she asked hesitantly.

She felt someone's hand grasp hers and lift her up off the ground. Reaching out with all her sense, she touched an all too familiar cheek. "Julian?"

"I'm here, Syd. Just focus on my face."

Sydney tried to do as she was told and was surprised to see everything clear up within seconds. Some of the blurriness must have been due to her being over stressed and excited. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

Before Sark could answer, there was some movement over in the corner of the room. Connelly was slumped against the wall with a gaping head wound. "Excuse me," Sark said. He pulled a gun out of his pants and cold cocked Connelly upside the face. "Hurts to see the student surpass the master, doesn't it, Peter?"

"We'll see about that," Connelly said, kicking Sark in the kneecap.

Sark fell hard to the floor, and Sydney stared in shock halfway across the room as the two men engaged in a fist fight. She silently prayed that both men wouldn't realize that it would be a lot easier and quicker to just start shooting one another rather than punching the living daylights out of each other.

Watching them tussle, she wondered if maybe she should do something. But then, in her mind, there was no real debate about who would win, which is why she didn't move to help her fiancé. What she didn't expect was all the pent-up rage Sark seemingly had. Once he gained the advantage, the fight turned into him straddling Connelly's body and repeatedly punching him as hard as he could in the face without pause.

"Stop it!" Sydney screamed running over to try to pull Sark off of his old mentor.

"Why?" Sark said, shrugging off her attempts and continuing to punch Connelly hard in the jaw. "Why shouldn't I just kill him right now? He tried to blackmail you into ruining your life for him. And you better believe if you had said no or tried to stall him any longer, he would have killed you. So give me one good reason why that shouldn't be a good enough reason to end his miserable, pathetic existence."

Sydney stood up and crossed her arms in front of her. "Because it wouldn't serve any purpose except to give your bloodlust some reinforcement. You haven't hurt someone for your personal satisfaction in so long. I thought you had gotten over that phase in your life, Julian."

Sark paused in mid-punch. He looked down and saw that Connelly had been knocked unconscious by his fists a long time earlier. "You want me to spare him?"

"He'll be useful to us in some way. And you're not a murderer anymore, Julian. You can't tell me that you wouldn't feel guilty killing him." Shifting positions, she put her hands on her hips and stared him down. "And you know that there was no way I would be going as far as you are if I were in your position, Julian."

He sighed and stood up off of Connelly. Looking at her, he shook his head, "I get all my bad habits from watching you."

"You consider showing mercy a bad habit?"

"The worst." He held out his hand to her. "How are you holding up?"

"Let me see. Connelly killed Marshall's wife in his attempts to prove to me his threats are not empty. I have a broken rib from you shoving him into me and therefore shoving his gun into my side." She pulled his hands up to take a closer look at them. "And my fiancé's hands look like they've been through a meat grinder."

"They'll heal."

"How did you find me? Wait. No. How did you know that I needed you?"

"I just got tired of pretending that you and I were on rocky terms. When I went to find you and no one knew where you were, I got worried."

"And how did you know I was being held hostage here?"

"I'm the best at what I do."

"And what is that?"

"Rescuing you." He pulled her towards the door. "It's time for us to make our exit."

"What about Connelly?"

"I let your friend Weiss know what I was about to do. My guess is the CIA will be sending a task force in any minute now."

"I should call them and let them know they shouldn't mention Nadia."

"You're too tired and beat up to be on the job right now," Sark corrected her. As her words sank in, he couldn't help but ask, "Why shouldn't they mention your sister?"

"Because as smart as Connelly is, he doesn't know that I have a sister. He thinks that I'm the only descendent of Rambaldi. I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."

"Understood. If you promise you'll get some medical help for that broken rib and the bruises, I promise to let the CIA know they shouldn't mention her."

"Agreed." Sydney let herself be lead down the hall. "You realize you eventually do have to tell me the truth about how you knew I needed your help."

"I know. I promise I will once you get some care for those ribs. Now lean on me."

Smiling, she did as she was told without arguing. She let Sark direct the way out while she thought of how wrong Connelly had been. He had told that her personal rescuer would not be saving her this time. "Never doubted it," she whispered to herself.

"What did you say?" Sark asked her.

She smiled up at him. "Nothing at all. Let's go home."


	29. Coffee Talk

Sydney sat down at their kitchen table with a cup of coffee grasped in her hands. She had been on the phone with Marshall for the past two hours, telling him why his wife had been killed and explaining why all the blame should rest on her shoulders alone. There must have been an apology coming out of her mouth every other second. Marshall, as she knew he would be, was understanding, although she could tell he was crumbling on the inside.

Eventually, she told him that he should get back to his son and start to heal his wounds. She didn't want o keep him from Mitchell. The only reason he agreed to hang up was that Weiss had just arrived at his house. That was Sark's doing.

He had somehow had the smarts to call Weiss once they had returned to their house. He made sure that Connelly was safe in the CIA's custody and then explained what had happened to Carrie Flinkman. Weiss immediately agreed with his idea that Marshall should not be alone and handed the Connelly situation over to Vaughn. It reassured Sydney to know that Marshall would not be alone for quite a while.

After taking another small sip of her coffee, she set it down and stared at the man sitting across from her. "All right, handsome. Talkie talk talk."

"You want to know how I knew you needed me?"

"Yes. And don't give me that connection mumbo jumbo."

"I think my memories are coming back. I remember the meeting I had with Connelly when I asked him to run surveillance on you right after you got abducted by the Covenant. He knew who you were."

"I'm sure he did. I was quite popular back in the day."

"The funny thing is my memory proceeded past the moment that I left the meeting. I heard things that I never should have been privy to."

"Have you been smoking the evil marijuana again?" she teased.

"I wouldn't be telling you this if it wasn't important, Syd."

"I'm sorry. I'll be serious. What did you hear?"

"Connelly wanted me to fall for you so that he could hit me where it hurts. Once I had let you in, he was planning on killing you. All in an attempt to get me to work for him once more."

"See, he kept telling me the opposite when I was kidnapped. He seems to be interested in having me work for him. The descendent of Milo Rambaldi is a valuable commodity these days."

"Only two of its kind," Sark joked.

"And you've only tainted one." Sydney got a funny look on her face. "Oh have you? Did you ever meet my sister?"

Sark just grinned at her.

"I am going to kill you," she said, moving to get up. Sark beat her to the punch and rounded the table, pulling her into his arms. Sensing something was wrong, she asked, "Why so serious?"

"We can't be bantering back and forth right now, Syd. There's a lot we have to get to the bottom of, and I think that between the two of us, we have the information to do it."

"Okay," she said, shrugging out of his arms. "Who do you think Connelly told the truth to?"

"I'm not sure. I wouldn't doubt that he was using me to establish a connection to you."

"But you also wouldn't doubt that he was using me to destroy your life and effectively turn you back to the dark side?"

"Exactly."

She paused and bit her lip. "Thought. What if he was telling both of us the truth?"

"How do you mean?"

"Go with me here. He gets you to fall in love with me, the 'evil' Covenant agent. That effectively lowers both of our strongly erected emotional barriers. We're weakened. Without your knowledge, he goes to Julia Thorne to let her know that the man she's sleeping with is actually intent on killing her. I decided that he must be right because you are aloof and distant with me every time I ask you questions. Connelly is supportive and lets me know that he's there to help. After planting some fake evidence of your intent to kill, he tells me that he'd be happy to whisk me away from the Covenant in return for my services as Rambaldi descendent. I agree because you are so shady that I can't trust you even to check up on Connelly's credentials. I do whatever job he needs and then BAM! He whacks me. Your life is destroyed. He's again supportive and comforting, and you go back to the man who is familiar to you like a father."

"Crazy plan. But it does have Connelly written all over it. He has a flare for the supportive and comforting angle."

"So, what do we do now?"

"Beats me."

"Do you think I should tell Nadia's what's going on? She might be in danger if Connelly figures out that she exists."

"I don't know. You have only talked to your sister a handful of times since you yourself found out she existed. I'm not sure if it's the easy thing to keep calling her up and telling her that her life is in danger because she belongs to a family she never knew."

"It's tough, being my mother's child," Sydney pointed out. She took a long, deep breath before looking back at Sark. "So do you think I should contact her?"

"I don't know." Sark paced for a few seconds before turning back to her. "I don't think you should. At least not yet. Don't contact her until you know if there really is something going down that could affect. And there is the favor that Connelly was going to force you to do."

"The meeting with the President of Lithuania? You actually want me to go through with that."

"It might give us some much needed information and let us know if you have to talk with your sister about Connelly. Worst case scenario, it would at least give us leverage against Peter. I mean, all you would have to do is talk with this guy, right?"

"That's what it seemed like. Of course, you'd come with me under some silly guise of being my bodyguard. The information I find out will affect you just as much as me."

"And I do need to protect you in case Connelly gives the CIA the slip."

"I can protect myself."

Sark rolled his eyes and sat down at the table again. "And that's how you ended up in an inescapable room with no way out."

"Hey! I was escaping when you kindly stepped in to break my rib."

"How is your rib doing?"

"Hurts like hell, but I've had worse. You've done worse to me yourself."

"Back at you." Sark reached across the table to pick up her mug and looked at the bottom. "Want me to get you more?"

"No. I probably shouldn't be hopped up on caffeine right now. It throws off my senses."

"Planning on getting abducted again?"

"It's a pattern that I choose to not ignore. I'm kidnapable." She shrugged her shoulders.

They both returned to silence as they thought over whether this was the right move to make. Losing their heads and rushing straight into something might be the worst choice they've made so far, and there had already been a few bad ones.


	30. The President

"Rainy season," Sydney grumbled stepping out of the plane. "Why did it have to be rainy season?"

"The way I hear it, it's always rainy season in Lithuania," Weiss said, following her out into the airport terminal. He pulled Sydney close to his side, knowing that she tended to have a habit of either running off when you weren't looking or being kidnapped when you weren't looking.

"I can't believe you insisted on coming," she said as she tried to pull back from his grip slightly.

Weiss didn't loosen his hold at all. "You have to have some sort of CIA back-up on this one. We do still employ you, don't we?"

"Officially, yes." She reached up to turn on her earpiece. "Are you there, Julian?"

"Just call me the little devil on your shoulder telling you that your skirt is definitely not too short."

She rolled her eyes. "Let's get this over with. I really want to go home and smack him around a little."

"I think that's a dream of a lot of people."

Sydney rolled her eyes, this time at Weiss. Then she stopped and thought about it, finally giving him a smug smile. "But it's only my reality."

"Some people have all the luck."

"Would you two stop flirting with one another? I can hear you," Sark's voice reminded her in her ear. "Plus it sounds disgusting like you're both flirting at me and not each other."

"Flirting is the way I operate on a mission. Get used to it." Sydney smiled at Weiss as they exited the airport. There was a government marked car waiting for her right outside on the curb.

"Now that's service," Weiss said with a grin. "How far until we met that Lithuanian guy?"

"President Danelus is at his private offices which are about ten minutes from here." Sydney smiled at the man holding open the left rear door for them. "Your services are not needed. We're going to drive ourselves."

"That was not in the agreement," the man grunted out in choppy English.

"Doesn't matter, man," Weiss said, tapping the man supportively on the shoulder. "When she gets an idea in her head, there's not reasoning with her."

The man nodded and took a step back from the care. "That was a lot easier than I thought," Sydney admitted to her partner as they entered the car.

"Be sure she drives on the proper side of the road," Sark's voice echoed into both of their ears.

"I thought we turned him off," Sydney commented, steering the car onto the road in front of the airport. Weiss let out a polite laugh before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "Is something the matter, Eric?"

"No. I was just thinking how odd this was. You've been going nonstop, in and our of the CIA's jurisdiction for years now. It just seems like things have changed."

"Like they're winding down?"

"Maybe," he said, turning to stare out the window. "Maybe."

"It does feel like things are a lot less hectic with Connelly being in custody and my missing two years having mostly returned."

"It's eerie."

She took a hand off the steering wheel and touched Weiss's shoulder gently. "Think of it this way, Eric. Nothing's really changing. We might just be finally closing this crazy chapter in my life and moving on to something else."

"That's a fairly optimistic perspective you have there."

"Thing of it as a hope that I might actually have time to use my vacation time. I think it's been adding up for quite a while now."

The rest of the drive was in moderate silence. Sarcasm could really only take them so far in avoiding the idea that they really didn't have any idea what they were getting into even if things felt like they were slowing down. This appointment with the Lithuanian president had been set up by Connelly. Granted, Sydney and the CIA had shifted the time and date to a little earlier than Connelly had expected, but there was really no reason that they would avoid trouble because of that.

"Well, this is certainly a private office," Weiss said, pointing to the massive wrought-iron gates and the burly looking security man waving them over.

Sydney drove the car up to the gates and gave one of her infamous smiles. "Sydney Bristow, here to meet the President."

The man looked over his list. "You're not on there."

"Try Julia Thorne," she said with a smile. "I have aliases. A girl can never be too careful."

"How do I know you're this Miss Thorne?" he asked her.

Sydney reached into her purse and pulled out a passport. She handed it over to the man. "Because that's my name. Sydney Bristow is the alias I use when things get a little too close for comfort."

The security guy handed her back the passport and clicked open the gate. Sydney gave him one last smile and, after flinging her passport at Weiss, drove the car forward.

"How did you get a passport with Julia Thorne's name on it?" Weiss asked her.

"That's what I'd like to know," Sark added through the earpieces.

"I keep it around just in case. My old aliases seem to come in handy at the most random times. Since Connelly was going to use me while I was working with the Covenant as Julia Thorne, it only makes sense that he would set up this whole assignment under that alias. A girl has to be prepared for everything if she wants to get anywhere."

Sydney parked the car at the top of the driveway in front of a rather intimidating looking mansion. "Something tells me that this is more of a private residence than a place of business."

"Maybe the President was really impressed with Julia Thorne's reputation," Weiss added, slipping out of the car.

"We're going to have to go radio silent for now, Julian. There might be some sort of surveillance that will pick up the frequency you're transmitting on. I don't want to chance screwing this up in any way."

"If any thing goes wrong, no matter how small, you open the channel back up. I don't want to be cut off from this."

"Got it," Sydney said before turning her ear piece off. "Weiss, you should wait out here."

"You conveniently wait to tell me that until your little loverboy can't hear you."

"Yeah, I did that on purpose." She walked around the car to look Weiss in the eye. "I think the President might be a little skittish. Julia Thorne isn't the type of agent to run around with an entourage. He'll probably only want to talk if it's me listening. I didn't tell Julian this because I knew he would worry."

"All right. I'll stay at the car. But you be careful. Any slip-up at all, you get Sark on that radio." She nodded and started up the stairs to the front door. "Sark is going to kill me."

Electing not to knock since she was expected, Sydney pushed the large oak door open and entered the main foyer, trying to feel as confident as she looked. "Definitely not a normal place of business," she whispered.

"Miss Thorne," said a voice from above her.

She looked up to the landing above her. "President Danelus. Pleasure to meet you."

"The same here, Miss Thorne." The President descended the stairs to stand next to her.

"Call me Julia. It makes this all feel a lot less formal."

"And you can call me Derek." The president made the motions as if he was going to continue talking but stopped himself. Instead, he grasped her left arm lightly and led her up the stairs and into a private office. "I guess we should start with me asking how your work for the Covenant is going."

The question only fazed her for a fraction of a second. "Good. It's hard most of the time, not knowing who's issuing the orders for me to carry out. It pays the bills, though, and keeps me out of government custody."

"That's what I thought you would say, Julia." He smiled at her, and she could tell that he had something painful to tell her by his sympathetic gaze. This was not going to be fun. "I don't want to beat around the bush. I know you're a very talented and busy agent for the Covenant, but there are things you need to know. To start with, your name is not really Julia Thorne."

Sydney faked a laugh before sobering. "What do you mean, President?"

"Again, call me Derek. I'm about to upend your life. We should at least be on a first name basis."

"Fine. What do you mean, Derek?"

"Your real name is Sydney Bristow, and you work for the United States Central Intelligence Agency. You are not really an agent of the Covenant."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, trying to appear as if she was the hardened spy that she had pretended to be for two years of her life.

"I have been waiting too long for you to agree to a meeting. Sydney, you have to get out of your present situation before you get killed. The Covenant isn't the only organization who wants you dead."

"I've grown up with multiple sources trying to kill me. Your information is not new."

"There is a man who has been manipulating you like a puppet on a string."

She tried to think fast. "Julian Lazarey, I know. I have been wise to his ways since he first made contact with me."

"No, not Julian Lazarey. In fact, just the opposite. Julian has been helping you out at every turn of the road."

"What do you mean?"

"Julian has been working for me since the Covenant stole you away from your life in the United States."


	31. Full Circle Connections

"Huh?" That was all Sydney could force out of her mouth. The President of Lithuania had just told her that the man she loved had never lied to her when they worked with the Covenant. Sark had always been there to help her and get her through the whole ordeal. It is what she had been blindly believing and hoping since she first came to understood how much she loved and needed Julian. And now someone was finally telling her that it was true.

"I'm sorry to just be spring these things on you. I wish there had been a simpler, gentler way of telling you the truth." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't even know why you've let me get this far. But I'm telling the truth."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because the man who's been manipulating you has been manipulating me also." President Derek Danelus pulled his glasses off and set them on the desk. "Peter Connelly has been blackmailing me for information I had on the descendents of Rambaldi for years. He has viciously destroyed every inch of a life that I once had before assuming this office. I used to have a wife, children, grandchildren who loved me and were a part of my life. Now my family has been reduced to just a façade, only there so that I won't appear to be a weak leader. The second I step down, they are gone."

"What did Connelly do to you?"

"Nothing that you wouldn't do if you really wanted something, Julia."

"Call me Sydney." She gave him a weak smile when he looked at her in shock. He hadn't expected her to admit that she believed him so easily. But then he didn't know that she already knew she wasn't Julia Thorne. "I know who I am, Derek. You didn't have to tell me."

To his credit, he contained his surprise rather quickly. He was obviously as good of a politician as everyone claimed. "Then why did you make me? If you already knew, why have me explain it to you?"

"I had to find out your reasons. People have been trying to kill me my whole life. I don't take unnecessary chances." Making a split second decision, she gave him another grin, hoping it appeared as reassuring as she wanted it to. "Would you hold on a second?"

After his nod of affirmation, she reached up and pressed her ear piece back on. "Weiss, I'm all right. Julian, you should stop lurking around the perimeter and pretending like you didn't follow me to this location. Come inside. The President has some things you might want to hear."

* * *

Julian smiled at Weiss as he made his way past the parked car. Weiss simply rolled his eyes and resumed talking on his cell phone. Sark guessed that he must be relaying the new developments in Sydney's assignment. Unlike Sydney, Weiss seemed to actually care that he kept his job with the US government.

He entered the foyer to see Sydney and President Danelus waiting for him. "Hello, President," he said, crisply looking to Sydney for confirmation. When she smirked at him and winked, he let his last few reservations go. "What is this I hear about information I need to know?"

"Connelly has been blackmailing the President for information about Rambaldi's descendents. Derek told him that there was only one remaining descendent."

"That was why Connelly doesn't know about your sister."

"And the evidence of Nadia's existence as a descendent was hidden."

"How does this man know about your sister?" Sark asked. He was still trying to figure out what was going on. This was way too easy for his liking. Usually it took a near-death experience for him to figure out the truth. "No one knew of her existence until a year ago."

"I can explain that one," the president interjected. "Nadia has been doing a few freelance assignments for me while working for the Argentine government. She had run into a situation with one of the fugitive groups in the country and need some money fast. I was there to offer her aid in that way, and I got to do what I felt needed to be done. You see, someone had to watch over Nadia in case Connelly found out that she existed. It couldn't be you or anyone you knew, Sydney. Otherwise I might have told you sooner that she was in Argentina."

"It seems like you think you know Sydney very well even though you two have never met," Sark pointed out, shifting a little where he stood. Maybe it was just the fact that he had a life where anyone and everyone might stab you in the back at any moment, but he did not trust this guy. At least, not yet.

"My life has been Rambaldi for so long. Rambaldi equals the Derevko bloodline. So, therefore, I do know her well."

"Why don't we stop trying to attack the president, Julian, and let him talk?" Sydney looked over at the man in question. "Tell him about the evidence of my sister's existence being hidden."

"That would be the disk that Miss Bristow tells me the two of you jointly stole from CyroTech a little while back. CyroTech Corporation is one of my holdings that I had before I took office here. I have to admit that I lost track of what they were doing at that complex. I didn't realize how bad the situation had become."

"Everything's connecting so conveniently," Sark said sarcastically. "Isn't that nice!"

"I understand your hesitation, Julian. It took me months to get your trust the first time around." The president paused a moment before continuing on, "Things are only clicking into place right now because I'm through with hiding from the people. Connelly wanted you to come here to find out if I was going to crack. He wanted to know if I could come face to face with a woman who has been used by so many people and if I could lie to her myself. It was like his final test for me."

Sydney bit her lip. No matter what the president said, it was hard to accept that things were actually working out. Luckily she didn't have to respond to him. Sark chose to instead. "I don't understand why Connelly would have gone to so much trouble to get Sydney to meet with you. What was his goal?"

"Sydney was telling me while we waited for you to come inside that you had a theory about that of your own."

"We thought that Connelly wanted to get his hands on a Rambaldi descendent to get some information."

"He wanted information on a weapon. Put together the knowledge that you have, Sydney, that Julian has, and that I have, and he would have his answer. Our lives have been leading up to this point."

Sydney looked over at her fiancé. He was nodding his head, but she could still see him hesitate. "Well, you have had your hands in a good portion of our lives without our knowledge, haven't you, Mr. President?"

"I would have told you all this sooner if I thought it would have helped and if it had been a realistic option."

"His family was threatened by Connelly," Sydney explained.

"That's the oldest trick in the book."

"It worked," the president said. "I kept silent for way too long. I let Connelly believe that he could get what he desired with a little pushing and prodding of your life, Sydney. For that, again, I'm sorry."

"So what changed your mind about keeping silent?" Sark asked. He seemed to be warming up to the idea that the president was telling the truth.

"It wasn't until I received a message from Julia Thorne through one of my private channels that she wanted a meeting that I figured it was time to come clean."

"It was Connelly setting up the meeting. The bastard didn't even wait to kidnap me before putting the wheels in motion."

"He was always extremely cocky."

"Now I know where you get it from," she said, rolling her eyes.

"What else is there that I need to know?" Sark asked as he turned his attention back to the president.

The president shot him a strange look before continuing. "I expected Sydney's spotty memory, but yours I was unprepared for."

"I wiped my memory clean along with Sydney's," he explained simply. "Sorry if it causes you any extra work."

"You were working with me to determine the descendents of Rambaldi for a few months before the Covenant's plans caused Sydney to be ripped from her life in Los Angeles. You were pulling double duty, working for me and doing your normal freelance jobs. You seemed really determined at keeping the ruse going."

Sydney smiled at him. "You agreed to work with the Covenant to protect me, Julian. It looks like I was right, and you always did have a crush on me. You followed me to the Covenant and protected me just like we always thought. You didn't want to kill me."

"You were protecting Sydney so that Connelly's plan would at least partially work. You couldn't let him fail if you were going to figure out what he was trying to do, but you also wouldn't compromise Sydney's safety."

Sark slunk down into a nearby chair and set his head into his hands. "All this thinking is making my head hurt. I don't think I can see straight."

"Stop being dramatic," Sydney scolded. "I'll put it in simple, easy to understand wording. You were working with Danelus before he took power as the president of Lithuania to help find the descendents of Rambaldi. When you two discovered that the Derevko line was involved, you agreed to help keep me safe. The President started to be threatened by Connelly, and together you two figured out what he had planned. However, that was too late to keep the Covenant from kidnapping me, and you were forced to play along with Connelly and the Covenant's plans in order to keep me safe. At the first possible moment, you were going to return me to my life as Sydney. But I beat you to it and saved myself. As a precaution, you erased both our memories, thinking we would just shift back to our normal roles as mortal enemies. It didn't work out that way. We remembered. We got into a lot of trouble trying to figure out the pieces that didn't come back so easily. And here we are."

He looked up at her and gave her a nasty look. "Head. Hurts. Words. Hurt."

"Grow. Up," she answered, her teeth ground together in anger and frustration. "I thought you were supposed to be a super spy. Try to act like it."

"I don't understand why you two are still working together if you no longer think you're Julia Thorne," the president asked, trying to calm the situation down. There was too much tension in the air.

"Contrary to what it looks like, I actually love this pain in my ass," Sydney said.

Sark gave the president an uncharacteristic goofy grin. "She's spending the rest of her life with me."

"Okay."

"So, now he's told us what he knows. What do we do now?"

Sydney thought a moment before nodding and walking out the front doors. "Eric? Is Connelly still in your custody?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Make sure he stays there. And tell Dixon that Sark and I are heading in with some information that should keep him there indefinitely. He's been playing most of the world in order to get some sort of Rambaldi weapon. This whole thing reminds me too much of what the Sloane situation was. We need to keep a close eye on him. We should be in L.A. and at the CIA headquarters within nine hours."

"You and Sark?"

"Yes. We're both coming in, and he will not be blindfolded. Tell Marcus and my father they're just going to have to deal with that."


	32. Epilogue

Sydney sat at the small café across the street from Argentina's main intelligence offices. She readjusted the sunglasses on her face as she watched her sister walk down the front stairs. She was beginning to regret going against what her father and Dixon had told her. This was going to be hard.

Standing up and walking across the fairly deserted road, she smiled and waved at her sister. Nadia paused in her steps and began to walk towards her. "Hi."

"What are you doing here, Sydney?"

"There are a few things I wanted to tell you."

Nadia narrowed her eyes. "Am I in danger?"

"No! Nothing like that. Well, there was this one thing, but we're handling it."

"What?" Nadia knew she probably shouldn't even ask what was going on, but she couldn't help herself. Call it an act of self preservation.

"There was a man involved in my missing two years. He wanted to get his hands on a descendent of Rambaldi, and he didn't seem to know of your existence. It's been handled. He's in CIA custody where he'll be staying for a long, long time."

"Peter Connelly?"

Sydney stared at her sister in shock. "You know about him?"

"I keep tabs on you, too. Our paths seem to intersect a lot."

"But you didn't know about him before?"

"Not in connection to you, no. I would have told you immediately when I found out I had a family in the United States if I had known. Everyone assumes that I'm hiding things from you just because my life is straightforward and simple. I'm not an evil agent hell bent on screwing with you life, Sydney."

"I know." Sydney reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. "This is the real reason I tracked you down."

Nadia hesitantly took the envelope from her and slid her finger along the crease. "This isn't going to explode or anything, is it?"

"Nope. It's just paper and ink."

She looked down at the paper in her hand. "A wedding invitation?"

"I'm getting married in a few months. I wanted to ask you to come to the ceremony. We might not be close, but we're still family."

"Julian Lazarey?"

Sydney's mind flashed back to a moment a few days earlier when Sark hinted at having known her sister before he met her. "You know him, don't you?"

"We worked together when I started working for the Argentine government. He helped me learn some of the ropes. I didn't realize you were involved with him."

Sydney started to say something and then paused. "What?" Nadia asked.

"Have you ever been involved with him?"

"No. He's not my type," she answered simply.

"All right. I just had to get that one out of the way." They stood there in silence for a moment. "So, will you come?"

Nadia stared at her big sister for a moment. "If I can get away, I'll try. It would be nice to see Julian again."

Sydney narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Are you sure you weren't involved?"

She just smiled and gave a small wave before walking back the way she came. When she reached the end of the street, she turned back to face Sydney. "I'll try," she yelled.

"That's all I'm asking," Sydney called back.

She watched her sister turn the corner and disappear from view. Her father had told her that she shouldn't try to make Nadia Santos a part of her life. That it would be better for everyone if she just kept their lives separate like they had been for years. But something inside her told her that this had been the right thing to do. Nadia was her half-sister, and she should be at the most important day in Sydney's life.

Sydney started to walk in the opposite direction to where a car was waiting to take her back to the airport and her life in the States. She still couldn't believe she was marrying Julian Sark. Actually, she could believe she was doing it. What she couldn't believe was the fact that there weren't many protests. Once she had decided that it was now or never and told everyone that she was going to marry him within the year, everything had moved so fast.

There were still things about the two years she was missing that she was unsure of. She didn't think she would ever know every moment that she had lost. But there was a sense of closure to the situation. She had been searching for that for so long that it felt eerie to actually have it. Her life had been turned end on end for what seemed like forever, but for once, it was calm. She didn't think that would be changing anytime soon either. It was refreshing.

Sydney slid into the car and felt the car shift into drive. She still had quite a lot of questions in her life. She still had issues she had to work out with both her parents, and she still had to figure out how her sister is supposed to fit into her life. She wasn't sure if her job at the CIA would be able to work now that she was marrying the enemy. She didn't know if Julian would be changing his way of life to allow for them to be together if she didn't leave, and she didn't know how she could possibly ask him to do that so she could stay.

If she knew anything at all, though, she knew that she could finally sleep without having her memories haunt her every move. Through all the pain and through all the questions in the past year, Sark had made sure of that.

Smiling, she thought of the man she had fought so hard to love and watched the buildings pass by.


End file.
